To Live a Marionette Life
by F12Scuderia
Summary: Her entire life was obeying orders. She learned how to smile, please and put on a sad face whenever it was needed. When Her Majesty invited her to stay in England, it was an order—but at the same time, a chance to escape her puppet master's strings. In order to secure herself, she must solve a crime, lie through her teeth, and maybe play a game of seduction with Charles Grey.
1. We Meet Again

**Chapter 01**

 _ **We Meet Again**_

* * *

" _Queen Victoria's favourite writer?" The dark-haired baron walked to and fro in front of the petite child, dark eyes piercing through her demure disposition. His jaw, framed by sideburns, clenched as he waited; his big hands carried a book._

 _The girl looked up to him, confident. "Lady Maria Corelli."_

 _He paused, as though assessing that confidence, thinking of a way how to break it._ _"Her favourite book?"_

" _Der seltame Fall des Arzt Jekyll und Herr Hyde."_

" _English!" He snapped at once, throwing the hardbound book across the room. "Speak in_ _ **bloody**_ _English!"_

 _She cast her eyes down and whispered her answer: "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."_

 _The baron nodded in encouragement. "Very good."_

* * *

Charles Grey squinted his eyes as he passed by the grandeur glass windows of the Buckingham Palace. Using his gloved hand, he shielded the shafts of sunlight away from his face as he strode on, a document on the other hand. An attendant smiled and bowed politely, a steward addressed him formally. _I am not so good with these,_ Grey thought instead, as he turned right towards the office he shared with Phipps.

The large double doors loomed before him, white and gold, as in the manner of his white uniform and the golden profile of Queen Victoria on his left chest. Running his fingers through the longer patch of his silver hair, Grey entered the office with catlike silence, and was aghast.

A girl in a red riding dress was standing in front of the bookshelf, tiptoeing to reach the fourth level. She did not seem to acknowledge his arrival, not that it mattered to him. Instantly, Grey scowled, dropped the document on a nearby table, and strode angrily towards the stranger.

"What in the world are you doing here?!"

Driven by instant anger and suspicion, he drew out his golden-caged rapier, pointed the sharp end at the stranger, and lunged forward. The girl in red was caught off guard, eliciting a surprised gasp as she moved away from the assault. Grey ran after her, noticing the muddy footprints the she was leaving all over their neat office. He jumped on the couch to catch up with her, until he had a better view of the girl.

With light blonde hair and indigo eyes, the girl had a mischievous look on her face; a face that Grey thought was familiar. Yet he did not stop there. He drove the blade back to the girl, sending her backwards, and him advancing. They seemed like two fighters in a fencing match, Grey on the offense, and the girl on the defence. Suddenly, the girl let out shriek and leapt away, standing with her muddy boots on the wide round table.

Still suspicious, Charles Grey made a run to assault her again, until—

"Grey!" A bewildered voice stopped him from his tracks.

He spun around, confused as to who could have stopped him. From the other side of the room stood his partner Charles Phipps, tall and collected in his white uniform. He was carrying a silver tray of pastries and tea, as he moved forward to get in between Grey and the trespasser. Phipps glanced at the girl before setting the tray on a free desk, and watched as she jumped down from the table.

"You should be more careful." His voice was deep and calm. The teacups were set in order, the pastries all served in a silver platter. Grey was scowling by the time his partner had finished setting the table.

"Trespassers are _not_ allowed here," Grey warned the girl, as she slumped on the purple velvet couch and laid her muddy boots upon the wooden table. "Get your feet off the table," he growled, grey eyes narrowing threateningly. "And get the hell _out_ of here."

For the first time since she came, the girl spoke up with a thick German accent. "Oh, don't mind me. I won't be here for long."

"And what the hell are you talking about?" Grey huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Just as Charles Phipps was handing out a platter of pecan pie to their guest, another man entered the office. He looked slender and tall with his double-buttoned white vest and knee-high boots. A whip curled loosely upon his left waist. But what were noticeable were always his large sunglasses, making his eye colour a mystery even to Grey and Phipps.

"We have a problem," John Brown announced immediately. "Lady Coburg is late and— oh, you're already here." He stopped abruptly at the sight of the girl, slumped on the couch with her feet still on the table. John bowed briefly and turned to the Double Charles. "You didn't tell me she was already here."

"I was on my way," Phipps replied, "before Grey assaulted the lady."

Charles Grey looked back and forth at Phipps, John Brown, and the girl. He blinked once, and then twice, trying to process what was already happening in front of him. He felt dizzy all of a sudden; this was not the guest he was expecting.

"You're..."

"Queen Victoria is expecting you, Your Ducal Serene Highness." John Brown interrupted again, walking towards the couch. He inwardly cringed at the sight of the muddy table and carpet, where the girl had ran to and fro earlier.

The noblewoman nodded as she munched delightfully on the pastry. "Mm-hmm, I'm not supposed to be late."

"Remove your feet off the table, if you would please, my lady," Charles Phipps politely asked, much to the delight of the lady, and laid her muddy boots back on the carpet. The man in white fetched a clean towel and wiped the table free of the mud, while the lady sipped from her tea.

"Earl Grey tea," Lady Coburg hummed as she took another sip. Charles Grey narrowed his eyes at the mention of the name. "The older Earl Grey used to send packages of this tea all the way to Germany," she continued, meeting Grey's glare.

"You know the rules, Grey," John Brown said cautiously. "No weapons against Her Ladyship."

"I didn't know it was her!"

She held her hands up. "No harm done anyway."

"You look different." Grey savoured the memory of his youth with her. An unknowing smile graced his youthful and handsome face. He and his grandfather used to travel to Germany when he was younger. "Your hair was frizzy as straw and you had no more chest than a boy. And you always smelled like a horse," he remembered.

As Phipps and John Brown looked aghast, Lady Coburg laughed good-naturedly.

"The pimples went when the breasts came," she said. "And Aunt Alexandrine's dresses made me look presentable enough." She leaned in to take a nut from the pecan pie.

"Pardon my asking, my lady, but do you know why you're here?" John Brown seemed doubtful enough, Grey could see.

Again, Lady Coburg nodded her approval. "I'm afraid so. Is Queen Victoria in?"

"Her Majesty has been waiting for you."

Licking the chocolate off her fingers, she jumped up from the couch. She tossed the German-made gloves to Phipps, who caught them just in time. The mud that caked her boots was left on the luxurious red carpet. She followed John Brown out of the office, until she turned back to Grey, and said:

"It was nice seeing you again, Charles."

* * *

The foyer of Buckingham Palace had always mesmerized her, even as a child. The same red carpet felt so smooth, even with her leather boots that she had. The staircase was as grand as she remembered, the chandelier still gleaming golden and silver from the afternoon sun. Her eyes scanned the foyer eagerly, all the while keeping track of John. Soon, they entered another hallway, its walls lined up with paintings of the Queen and her relatives.

Suddenly, she stopped upon a certain painting that she had always loved. A grand painting of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert hung on the very centre of the hallway; the prince was sitting on a chair, surrounded by his pet dogs, while the young Queen Victoria was looking down at her beloved; beautiful and regal in her white off-shoulder gown. The girl grew up hearing stories of the love shared by the Queen and her Prince Consort, a story she kept close after all these years.

"Your Serene Highness?" John Brown turned to look at her.

"Coburg will do, John." She blinked the mesmerisation away, rubbing at her eyes, and smiled at him. "Queen Victoria and Prince Albert were deeply in love, weren't they?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "Up until now, Her Majesty still loves Prince Albert. Is there something the matter?"

"Nothing." She shook her head wistfully. Then, she turned and gave him an innocent smile. "So, a new member of the court, am I? Queen Victoria must need me very gravely."

"Her Majesty needs a new Master of the Horse. The last one suddenly fell ill. The Golden Jubilee would come soon; you are in charge of the outdoor parade. She also means for you to deliver a letter to Earl Phantomhive."

Her face brightened at the mention of the name. She remembered Vincent Phantomhive, handsome in his dark blue frock coat and black pants, when he visited her in Germany in one of her birthday parties. He had apologized for not bringing his wife and young son that day, with the reason that their health was frail.

"I'd like to meet Earl Phantomhive once again," she said.

John held up his hand. "Oh no, this one is different. Ciel Phantomhive, the new Watchdog of Her Majesty. You might find him... interesting..."

Lady Coburg frowned. "Too bad. I was looking forward on meeting Vincent Phantomhive instead."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Hello, everyone! I am back (after almost a year) with a new story! This one will be different—extremely different, in fact—from _The Vault of Bones_. I return from the grave with our beloved Charles Grey~! I missed being in the Kuroshitsuji fandom, esp. after watching the animated Book of Murders. It was only recently when I was able to get my wits and start a new story. Hopefully, everyone would enjoy this one as much as _The Vault of Bones_.

Actually, I made this story out of experiment: I wanted to try a new kind of OC. I hope I would be able to write and portray her the way I wanted to.

So yeah! Reviews, opinions, suggestions, etc are always appreciated! Thank you very much for taking the time to read! Ｏ(≧∇≦)Ｏ


	2. Errands

**Chapter 02**

 _ **Errands**_

* * *

From the office of the Double Charles on the second floor, John Brown led the way across the palace, passing through the various drawing rooms and audience chambers. When he passed the Marble Hall, he briefly glanced back to check the German behind him, whose eyes were wide as she drank the beauty of the paintings and golden chandeliers that hung above. Then, after passing through several other rooms and few servants, they headed to the Bow Room and exited through the gardens behind the palace.

"Her Majesty spends time here?" She quickened her pace to catch up, her leather boots lightly tapping the floor.

"Yes," he confirmed, his eyes ahead on the road. "She takes delight in taking care of her plants." From the corner of his peripheral vision, he could see the two Charles following them; Phipps was quiet as ever, keeping that nonchalant face, while Grey had his arms folded behind his head and seemed to be pouting.

Upon reaching a gazebo at the end of the gardens, John stopped and cleared his throat. "Presenting, Her Ducal Serene Highness, Almeison—"

"Allie!" Queen Victoria's enthusiastic voice rang within the small gazebo. She immediately stood where she was kneeling behind her plants, with John rushing to assist her, as she smiled and dusted her simple black dress. "Thank you, John," she told her aide, handling him the muddy gloves.

The young German smiled pleasantly to the queen and curtsied. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

Victoria approached, looking all pleased. "Welcome back to England, dearest Allie. Oh, it is wonderful to have you back." She stepped forward and planted a soft kiss upon the noblewoman's cheek. "You are a lovely sight to behold."

 _More like a sight for sore eyes_ , Grey thought, watching in complete boredom as the queen took Almeison's hand and led her towards the round table.

"Do tell me," Victoria coaxed, sipping from the black tea John had poured for her. "How are things faring in Germany? Is your father well? Your mother?"

" _Ja_ ," the blonde-haired lady answered. But then, at the back of her mind, she could see the darkened face of the baron, yelling: " _Speak in bloody English_!" She paused for a moment, waiting for him to scream at her face, until she remembered that she was in England—there was no baron to order her.

The queen let out a soft laugh. "Oh, I have missed hearing from you. Everyone has kept you locked away for so long." Then, her smiling face turned into a sombre one, her bright blue eyes showing sadness. She reached across the table and touched the golden hair. "You've always had your Uncle's hair"—then, her fingers tapped the nose—"and his eyes... Oh, _Albeeeertt_!"

Almeison blinked as the elderly queen in front of her began to pound on the poor table and sob something about Prince Albert.

"Oh, Albert, why did you have to leave me so soon!?" Her sobs turned into wails, her wails turned into hysterical crying. "I miss you, Albert! Come back to _meeeee_!"

John was at her side in a flash, holding a puppet that seemed to come from thin air. He knelt beside the queen, waved the little puppet, and said with a nonchalant voice, "Get a grip, Victoria. I did not leave; I am here with you all along. Cease your crying and smile now. There, that's right. Allie has grown into a wonderful young woman, has she not?"

Still, unable to comprehend the situation, Almeison looked over her shoulder and stared at the Double Charles.

Phipps bent lower to whisper in her ear, "Nothing to worry about, Your Ladyship."

"Yeah." Grey snorted, but kept his voice quiet. "It happens all the time. Get used to it."

"Are you feeling better now, Victoria?" John asked her; as his puppet leaned close to wipe the queen's tears.

Her Majesty sniffed and nodded. She murmured thanks to her aide and inhaled slowly.

When the queen turned to look at her, Almeison smiled brightly. It was her chance to impress and prove herself worthy, else all would fail and she might be sent back to Germany. She needed to learn how to cope with the queen's unpredictable outbursts, and perhaps even Grey's temper. Having observed both John and Phipps since this morning, she knew there would be no problem with them.

"Are you excited to become the new Master of the Horse, Allie?"

She nodded. "I am looking forward to it, Your Majesty. I was informed that the previous one fell ill, but I am ready to take on the responsibility."

"Oh, are you?" Queen Victoria sounded appreciative. "Mainly, your task revolves around management of the transportation within the whole palace. Would that be all right with you, or would your father prefer a task lighter than that?"

"I do not think he would mind," Almeison answered. She reached out for a tart and took a bite, humming delightfully when the sweetness exploded in her mouth. She took another one and munched on it, while keeping half of her attention to the queen's monologue. For all she knew, her father did not know what she was doing in England—except that she was summoned by Her Majesty to celebrate her Golden Jubilee next month.

"So, Allie—" The queen leaned against her chair and smiled. "Would you like to go outside, to test what it is like to be Master of the Horse?"

"Her Majesty only needs to command."

"You are a delight." Victoria clapped her hands and gestured for John. He returned with an envelope and laid it on the table. Then, he stepped behind the queen's chair to let her explain. "For your starting errand, I would like you to deliver this letter to Earl Phantomhive—oh, do you know already? I have a new Watchdog, a younger one that the last, but just as resourceful, competent, and reliable..."

Grey scowled upon hearing all those praises.

"He would be participating in the upcoming Golden Jubilee. It would be pleasant for you to meet him beforehand."

Almeison took the letter and stood up, taking that as her leave. "I shall deliver this, Your Majesty. _Guten tag_."

Queen Victoria chuckled. " _Guten tag, mein Leibling_."

* * *

"Earl Ciel Phantomhive lives in a manor house, located at the outskirts of London," John Brown read his report, as he paced back and forth within the office of the Double Charles. "His household consists of only few servants, among them an excellent butler he calls Sebastian."

His report was interrupted by an arrogant scoff from Charles Grey.

"He's not excellent," Grey argued, munching on his lemon cake. "He is freakishly eccentric."

"But competent," Phipps pointed out.

"And handsome?" Almeison von Coburg appeared from the doorway, clad in the red-and-black equestrian uniform of Her Majesty's Master of the Horse. Her long golden hair was pulled into a tight bun, covered by a black hat.

The duty was mainly political in sense, to lead each and every ceremony in which Queen Victoria would attend, to oversee the overall transportation of the household, including its horses, hounds, and even stables. The last Master of the Horse suddenly fell ill, prompting the Queen to search for a substitute. Then, she remembered a niece from Germany, who knew court intrigue well enough.

"I won't call him handsome if I were you," Charles Grey said.

" _Leugnung_ ," Almeison grumbled and flopped on the couch next to Phipps. She grabbed a lemon cake from the table and began to eat.

"So, Lady Coburg, as part of your errand, today you will deliver a letter to Earl Phantomhive," John Brown continued, once the three were settled on the couch. "It will be about an hour ride from here to his manor house." He stopped flipping his documents and looked down to her. "The carriage is ready for you."

" _Kein Wagen_." She shook her head, and then met the incredulous looks of her companions. "Oh, I mean to say no carriage, John. I will take my horse and go there myself. Just give me the directions." She stood up and stretched her limbs.

"It looks like it is going to rain," Phipps warned, looking outside the large glass window at the corner. England was well-known for its rainy weather, especially at June.

She stared at the dark clouds for a moment and shrugged it off. "I will be back in two hours."

"But it is going to rain, you dim-witted German." Grey narrowed his eyes at her.

There was silence, before Almeison went on to speak.

"Charles, do you think I will make a good Master of the Horse?"

He blinked; suddenly concerned that he had offended her. Phipps and John knew how much Grey disliked the Germans, especially after the incident at the Phantomhive Manor banquet last March—but to offend the niece of Prince Albert, to call her dim-witted, was not part of his plan.

"Of course, I do," Grey finally answered.

Almeison smiled. "Then, stop bossing me around."

"I would, if you stop being so obnoxious."

"Grey!" Phipps scolded.

"Whaaat~? It is the truth! Sometimes, you just _have_ to accept the truth." He grinned at his partner, and then smirked at her.

"You want honesty?" she challenged, rounding towards him as he sat on the couch. "All right. You might want to stop smirking at me looking like someone who eats his boogers in secret."

"God, you are so _disgusting_ , Allie!" Grey shuddered at the thought, and glared at her. "I refuse to believe I am acquainted with you."

She laughed. "What? I thought you wanted the truth. Besides, you cannot appeal to me that you've never picked your—"

"Would you _please_ stop talking?" He placed his hands to cover his ears. "Stop being so disgusting! Can you just leave already?"

Still laughing, Almeison waved her farewell to John and Phipps, and then exited the office.

* * *

The Phantomhive Manor was not very hard to locate, not when John gave clear instructions to her. Even at her three years of absence in London, she was able to navigate around the city. She passed several familiar nobles upon road, among which was the Viscount Druitt's mansion and Earl Trancy's blue-and-white carriage. She passed a pair of Indian men, one of which greeted her and waved energetically at her. Judging from his plum hair and regal robes, the younger Indian was a royalty.

Her Friesian horse pawed eagerly at the ground, and she urged him to a faster pace. Soon enough, they were riding fast, arriving earlier than expected at the target place.

"The Phantomhives," Almeison muttered to herself, as she stared at the grand yet old manor house. She wheeled her black stallion around the marbled fountain, and then dismounted to climb up the staircase leading to the main entrance.

Before she could knock, the large double doors opened. A butler clad in black emerged, smiling charmingly at her.

"Welcome to the Phantomhive Manor, Your Serene Highness." He bowed to her, his black fringe swaying at his movement.

Almeison blinked at him. She made sure no one knew her name, let alone the title she left at Germany. "You know me?"

Sebastian straightened himself with another beaming smile. "Certainly, Your Ladyship. Everyone in England knows you have arrived recently. Additionally—"he pointed at the golden badge on her left side—"your badge depicts German royalty."

 _Oh, how unfortunate. All these efforts to make myself a stranger only to be interrupted by a stupid badge._

He gestured his hand. "Please, follow me inside. The Master is in his study room."

She followed behind him, her indigo eyes scanning the interior of the place. The wallpapers were little dreary to her liking, a sad shade of cream. The foyer was polished until it shone; the chandelier above glinted golden. The place was so quiet that it might be mistaken as a haunted house by teenagers roaming in the woods at night. She went after him in equal silence, her eyes boring through his back, trying to assess him. And as they were walking, Sebastian noticed her stare and smiled to himself.

Halting in front of a room, he bowed again and opened the door for her.

At the centre of the study room, a small boy stood up from his desk. He was dressed in a dark green frock coat with a dark blue ribbon around his waist. His short, dark hair was neatly brushed to the side, while his hands rested regally on the edge of his table. An eye patch covered his right eye, while his left eye regarded her with interest.

"Welcome, Your Serene Highness. Please take a seat."

As she did so, Sebastian guided her to sit on the couch next to Ciel Phantomhive's desk.

"I have come to deliver a message from Her Majesty the Queen." Almeison showed the white envelope which bore the red seal of the British Royal Household, and laid it on the table.

Ciel opened the letter and scanned its contents. His aloof face showed no signs of surprise.

"I see it," he finally said, folding the letter and tucking it in his drawer. "I will see into the case right away. Thank you for delivering it, Your Highness. Come with me to the drawing room. We have prepared an afternoon tea and—"

"Oh, there is no need, Earl Phantomhive." She held her palm in defence. "I promised Charles I will be back in two hours. I cannot be late, but I am grateful of the offer." She stood up and fixed the fake golden-caged rapier on her left hip; Grey had insisted it was part of the uniform, though she thought he was talking nonsense. She smiled at him and continued, "Thank you for your time, Earl."

Ciel sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Very well, then. Thank you very much for the trouble, Your Serene Highness."

Almeison bowed a little and went for the doorway, until something crossed her mind.

"By the way, Earl Phantomhive," she mused, turning back to look at him, "is there a chance for me to know what happened to the previous Earl Phantomhive? Lord Vincent used to visit us a lot in Germany."

The fourteen-year-old earl gave her a charming yet enigmatic smile. "Perhaps, Your Serene Highness. Whichever version of the story you hear, it all ends up in the same thing: my predecessor was burned to death."

"As I have heard." Almeison bowed again. " _Guten tag, Graf_ Phamtomhive."

" _Guten tag, Dame_ Coburg." Ciel knew enough basic German from his Uncle Chlaus, who travelled from England to Germany several times.

Outside the manor house, she found her black stallion attended by a slender footman, whose hand was holding on to the horse's reins. He shied away once Almeison approached him, and backed away immediately when she mounted her horse. He had strange skin, almost snake-like, which she had never seen before.

"What's your name?"

The footman flinched at her voice, as though he did not expect to be spoken to. His green eyes glanced at Sebastian for a moment, who nodded encourage at him. At length, he gulped and murmured, "Snake, my lady."

She did not know what to make of someone who looked like a snake, had three snakes coiling around his shoulders and arm, and who was named _Snake_. "Would you hold this for me?" Almeison removed the golden badge that she wore and handed it to him. "I would come back for it on my next visit."

"Y-Yes, of course, my lady."

She wheeled her great black stallion once more and urged him into a gallop. " _Das Lebelwohl_."

 _What?_ The footman thought incredulously, but paid it no more heed. Suddenly, a single raindrop fell on his forehead. More raindrops followed until the cold pierced through his snake-like skin.

 _The lady will be in big trouble_ , Emily pointed out, her striped body coiling around his neck and right arm. _You should have asked her to stay._

 _No_ , Snake thought, his green eyes looking down at the strange badge left in his hands.

* * *

* _Leugnung_ – Denial

* _Kein Wagen_ – No carriage

* _Guten tag_ – Good day

* _Mein Liebling_ \- My love/beloved

* _Graf_ – Earl

* _Dame_ – Lady

* _Das Lebelwohl_ – Farewell

 **Author's Notes:** I am baaaack, everyone! I normally don't update in _less_ than a week, but I have recently seen Chapter 108 and it had me fangirling right from the start! CHARLES GREY APPEARED~! My heart cannot take it! He was standing there in all his glory and handsomeness and, and — ah, just let me explode here with all my fangirl feels! *clears throat* Moving on with the chapter, it was actually nice seeing the trio of the queen's butlers again. Sieglinde looks utterly adorable in that haircut and dress! Also, what do you guys think with the Undertaker bit? What did he make Ciel drink? What's up with the lost contract in Ciel's eye in one panel, and then reappeared in the next? By the way, when that showed up, I almost had a heart attack that Ciel's contract with Sebby was nullified somehow.

Now, on with _this_ chapter! We get a little background about Allie, and some attitude, that's for sure! I sympathize with Grey somehow. Her name is pronounced as AL-MAI-SON (with mai as in _my_ or _my_ self; in Germany, _ei_ is equivalent to English _ai_ ). What else, what else? Oh, right! We've got some history mixed up in here as well—all that stuff with Prince Albert. In his pictures, by the way, he had dark brown hair, but a younger Albert was shown to have blond hair. I used that for Allie.

* **Emmanuel Park** \- Yaay! Thanks a lot for the quick fave and follow! I missed being around this fandom. Yes, you are definitely right. School can go to hell! XD

* **Rousdower** \- Charles Grey needs more love! Apart from Grey and Undertaker (who is also a favourite of mine), I think I like Edward for his personality. He's such a sweetie and every girl's dream big brother!

P.S. Don't worry. You should have seen me wailing like an idiot when I found out you are a fan too.

* **DeLacus** \- Gee! I didn't know you are a fan as well! #AWESOMESAUCE I loved the first half of the anime (because that was canon and those angels freak the hell out of me), and absolutely adore the manga! All these mysteries that make us come up with theories. Hooray for our favourite Grey, Undertaker and Sebastian~! Let us fangirl about them together!

P.S. I want to thank everyone who favourited and followed the story! Thank you for the reviews as well! I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it. Join me in fangirling over the latest chapter of Kuroshitsuji! (Seriously though, _what_ is Undertaker up to?!)


	3. To Rochester

**Chapter 03**

 _ **To Rochester**_

* * *

Even with the large fireplace already blazing, Charles Grey was shaking. He grabbed a thick red scarf from his chambers upstairs, and wrapped it around his neck. It felt like winter in the middle of June. Phipps arrived to serve him hot Earl Grey tea, but he was not in the mood to drink the tea named after his family. Ever since the production of the Earl Grey tea, Charles had great aversion on drinking it.

"Damn this weather," Grey cursed under his breath.

Phipps shook his head. "The weather is colder this year than the last. I am worried for Lady Coburg." When she promised that she would be back in two hours, Phipps was assured. Two _and a half_ hours later, he and John were already worried.

Both of them except Grey.

"She's what, eighteen? I am sure she went to London not to be pampered." Grey snorted. "If we need a substitute Master of the Horse, why did Her Majesty choose her instead of Earl Grosvenor or someone else?"

"Her Majesty trusts family well enough," Phipps pointed out. "Moreover, she knows how to manoeuvre her way in court politics, something both of us lack."

"Court politics, my arse. We don't need that here."

"Apparently, we do."

In that instant, John Brown burst open the doors and went to rummage through the wardrobes, grabbing thick blankets, and long coats.

"Slow down, tiger," Grey called out, chuckling. "What's going on?"

John briefly turned and said, "Lady Coburg has high fever," before storming out of the office again.

The Double Charles glanced at each other, and then sprinted out of the room.

* * *

Her head was swirling when she arrived in Buckingham Palace, her cheeks were burning and her feet were numb. When she stopped at the main gate, two red guardsmen rushed to her aid. She never felt her legs collapsing, only the heat which surrounded her body. Despite her cloudy vision, she could see three newcomers rushing to her, knelt beside her. One of them was shouting, the other ordering to fetch a doctor, and one went to carry her inside the palace. She heard her black stallion being taken back to the stables, his piercing neighs ringing in her head.

"Look at me, Allie. You'll be alright. I got you."

Long before she could regain consciousness, she was already lying on her large queen-sized bed, buried in deep layers of blankets and comforters. The iron fireplace was cackling at the corner of the room, the glass windows closed and the curtains drawn. A clammy atmosphere within the room was heavy with the scent of scented candles and the steaming pot of Earl Grey tea coming from the bedside table.

"Somebody must go and notify Her Majesty," Phipps's calm and soothing voice came.

"She will not be happy if she ever finds out," Grey pointed out.

"She _needs_ to know," John Brown argued and sighed. "I'll go and tell her. Phipps, please reheat the tea. Her Serene Highness will probably wake sooner or later."

 _I am awake_ , Almeison thought groggily. Her head swam when she moved to stop John and Phipps from leaving the room. She moaned at the hammering in her skull, and winced again when she felt her legs numb.

"Stop moving, geez." Grey sighed exasperatedly as he moved beside her large bed, and sat on the nearby chair. He pulled his black glove and laid his hand on her steaming forehead. "Fever. It must have been because you are unused to the weather here in England, making you more vulnerable. But you'll adjust soon enough; a doctor is on his way." He wore his glove again and frowned at her. "You said you'll be back in two hours."

"I did," she managed to say, shaking under her blankets. "How long did it take?"

Charles glanced at the clock. "You returned after two hours and thirty-seven minutes," he replied. "Now, look what you've done to yourself."

" _Ich bin durstig_..."

"What?" Charles snapped at her.

She rolled her eyes weakly. "Thirsty, I am thirsty, you pathetic meat sack."

"Fine, what the hell?" He poured tea and presented it to her.

"Not that," she protested, drawing her face away from the fragrant Earl Grey tea, and covered half if her face with the blanket.

He could feel his temper rising. "Then, _what_ do you want?"

"Beer will do."

Grey gaped at her. "Not on your life. Drink this tea instead." He smirked at her. "Don't you want to drink tea named after me?"

"No. We've had enough Earl Grey teas at Rosenau Palace." She closed her eyes and tried to picture the small palace which was her home.

Her father and Prince Albert grew there as children until adulthood. She remembered how her lady-in-waiting used to tell her stories on how Ernst and Albert sparred against each other in the gardens, and would come back home later all muddy and bruised up, but their lord father would only laugh at them and invite them to dinner.

Her first day at Rosenau Palace was on her third birthday, when her father announced to the family that he actually _fathered_ a child—an illegitimate child, born out of wedlock, bastard as people mocked her—but she was indulged since then. She was left there for quite some time, learning everything that she had to learn. She remembered how her step-mother clapped happily when she perfected a curtsy when she was four.

Charles sighed in defeat and discarded the tea cup on the table. "What do you want then, Allie?"

"Stay here with me," Almeison answered sleepily. "Do whatever you want, just _don't_ leave me alone."

He weighed the statement for a few moments, until her breathing became lighter, and he was certain that she was already asleep.

At length, he nodded obligingly and smiled as he ran his hand against her warm forehead.

* * *

Back at the Phantomhive Manor, Ciel was reading Her Majesty's letter for the third time that day; the request seemed simple, like it always did, but there was something unsettling on this particular message. He ran his fingers on Queen Victoria's elegant handwriting, and he could even smell the old queen's perfume on the parchment.

"What is it all about, young master?" Sebastian asked as he emerged from the darkness, ruby eyes staring at his master.

Ciel leaned back against his seat, and heaved a long sigh. "A noblewoman is raped at Rochester; there was an eerie burn stamped on her back. Her Majesty wants me to investigate who did that."

"A burn, you say?" Sebastian tilted his head to the side, smirking. "I am intrigued."

"I am as well, but something else has caught my attention."

"What is it?"

"The raped noblewoman was Earl Grey's fiancée."

* * *

The rain continued intermittently throughout the midnight.

Charles Grey would stand up every once in a while to tend on the blazing fireplace, to make sure the fires would not be extinguished. When he was done, he would yawn and scratch the back of his head, return to his chair, and sleep on Almeison's bedside. At the slightest of her movement, Charles woke up to assist her, but she never did much but to moan in her sleep and roll on the bed.

He never noticed Her Majesty and John Brown arriving in the chambers.

The queen opened the door and peeked inside. She saw Charles pulling the covers around Almeison's shoulders, before he himself returned to his sleep. It looked uncomfortable enough to sleep on the chair while his head rested on the bed, but he did not seem to mind.

"Your Majesty?" John asked behind her.

She smiled fondly and closed the door. "It seems we do not need a doctor anymore, John. Charles can handle the situation quite well. I shall thank him in the morning." Queen Victoria gathered her black skirt and turned around, followed by her faithful servant.

"Is it alright not to notify Grey about what happened?" John was worried about that would Grey's reaction would be, especially after the gruesome crime that happened in Rochester.

Queen Victoria looked up to him and shook her head. "There have been many stories of two betrothed people who are not happy about the engagement. Some rebelled against their family; others went along and forged an unhappy marriage. Charles and Anne-Sophie are not so different."

"Lady Frome's family must be in deep mourning. Grey ought to visit them to pay his respects, even if he barely liked his fiancée." He recalled how Grey trashed around the office when he found out about the engagement, half a year ago. He broke glass and windows, slashed his rapier until the couch was cut into velvety ribbons, but neither Phipps nor John did something to stop him. In the end, Grey paid for the damage he made, and Queen Victoria pardoned him.

"Anne-Sophie was a sweet child," Her Majesty continued. "But I understand if Charles does not appreciate such a gossiping wife." She grinned up to her aide and put her finger on her lips, indicating him to be quiet.

That made him chuckle. "Indeed, Grey prefers his ladies interesting and unpredictable."

* * *

The shuffling of blankets made him stir from his peaceful sleep. He fluttered his grey eyes open and yawned. He scratched his head and felt for the bed, and there was nothing there. Charles jerked awake, hurriedly scanning the large room until he caught glimpse of Almeison folding the thick blankets and numerous comforters provided by Phipps last night.

" _Guten Morgen_." She smiled pleasantly at him and discarded a folded blanket in the wardrobe.

He whirled towards her and narrowed his eyes. "You're supposed to be sick."

"How rude was that, Earl Grey?" She laughed. "I don't have to be indisposed for a week, do I?"

"But your high fever..."

"Fevers don't last for three days," she pointed out. "I feel better than yesterday though, and my head doesn't hurt anymore."

He placed his hand against her forehead. True enough, the fever had subsided throughout the midnight. He looked outside and window and realized that rain was still pouring heavily.

"Perhaps you can join me for breakfast," Almeison offered. She had changed her clothes while he slept; from her red vest and black trousers yesterday, to a pale blue silk dress, and a blue ribbon on her light blonde hair. "By the way, thank you for watching over me last night," she said, though her voice hinted mischief.

"How are you supposed to make up for my efforts?"

"Hmm, I wonder how."

Charles stepped forward until he was standing in front of her. "Kiss me," he whispered, a cocky smile playing across his lips.

Almeison leaned closer and lifted her face so dangerously close to his, exactly how he liked it. Then, she whispered in his ear, "No thank you, Earl Grey. I would rather have breakfast than spend my precious time fooling around with you.

"Fine, fine." He rolled his eyes and yawned. "Next time, wake me up first before you clean up the whole room. Geez." He looked around the neat room. As butler, it was his duty to clean up the mess left by his master, not that _she_ was his master of any sort.

She laughed again. "I didn't have the heart to wake you up, Earl Grey. You were sleeping like a little boy."

His cheeks burned at the embarrassment. "I am not. Let's go downstairs. I am famished~!"

Charles and Almeison continued to the grand dining hall, talking about nothing but their experiences in the past three years. Apparently, Charles succeeded his grandfather when Lord Henry Grey stepped down the peerage and gave Charles the opportunity to rise. He had been an earl for no longer than a year, which made him one of the youngest members of the peerage, which also included Earl Ciel Phantomhive on the list. Almeison, on the other hand, spent most of her years in Rosenau Palace, while her parents travelled all around in Germany for business trips. Her Belgian uncle once dropped by to give her a Friesian horse, the very black stallion she rode yesterday.

Inside the dining hall, the pair saw Queen Victoria sitting at the head of the table.

"Good morning, Your Majesty." Charles Grey beamed and bowed in front of the Queen.

Almeison followed. " _Guten Morgen_ , Your Majesty."

"Good morning, to the both of you." Victoria smiled and watched as her niece went to sit at her right hand while Grey went to stand alongside Phipps.

The morning course was immediately served next. The Queen and her new Master of the Horse ate in complete silence, with the three loyal butlers standing by. Victoria was pleasant enough to ask about Almeison's feeling, as she knew her father would be furious upon hearing his daughter's fever. The Queen invited her to join the court meeting in the afternoon, a preparation for Her Majesty's upcoming Jubilee Year celebration.

Then, she remembered something.

"Oh, John, could you please give the message to Grey?"

Almeison's indigo eyes followed the trail of John Brown, who moved from Queen Victoria's back to approach Earl Grey. He presented his colleague a white envelope with a blue seal and stepped back to allow a better view. She could see how Charles hesitated to open the letter. When he did, his eyes quickly read the contents. Almeison held her breath, suddenly nervous for him, but when he finished the letter, he only fell silent.

"Well, what did it say?" Queen Victoria feigned innocence and curiosity, one of her greatest talents.

"Lady Frome seems to have passed away," Grey answered, without a hint of emotion. His once cheerful face turned solemn and—was that frustration? "The letter reports that she has been raped and brutally murdered, and was found three days later in the middle of the forest."

"How terrible," Phipps murmured.

Queen Victoria gasped. "Is Lady Frome not your fiancée?"

 _Fiancée?_ Almeison looked confused. _Charles never mentioned anything about being engaged to someone._ She saw Grey looking at her direction, as if waiting for a violent response from her, but even she could not decide whether be sad for him or what.

"She _was_ ," Grey answered, sighing. "This announcement will give problems to my grandfather. He explicitly made it clear that I am to marry a noblewoman sometime soon, or else my title as earl will not be recognized." He did not truly understand how the peerage in England worked, but that was what Lord Henry Grey told him.

"Rochester is only a day away from London. Perhaps you would like to visit Lady Frome's family," John Brown offered, though his voice did not give any hints of concern for the grieving family.

Grey glanced at the young noblewoman before continuing, "Please excuse me, Your Majesty. I need to have a moment to myself." With that, he gave a quick bow and exited the dining hall, now avoiding her eyes.

Once he was gone, the breakfast went on as usual.

"I feel sorry for him," Almeison voiced out.

Queen Victoria nodded thoughtfully. "I know, dear child. Charles Grey loved his fiancée with all his heart. Don't you agree that someone should be there to comfort him?"

The German hesitated. _He doesn't look like in need of comforting_. "You could give him a week off from work, to give him time to rest or visit the Frome family."

"Charles would surely visit the family in Rochester," Victoria agreed. "If he does, I will need you to take him there."

"Me? But, Your Majesty, I am supposed to prepare for your Golden Jubilee. My duty states that I should oversee all matters regarding the transportation during the parade. If a carriage bolt is too rusty, or a horse remains unfed and weak, problems may—"

"The celebration will not take place in a few weeks, dear Allie," the queen assured her. "Our good friend Charles will need an escort to Rochester. And I would surely need someone to go in my stead, to send my condolences to the family." She sipped from her Ceylon tea and took a bite from her éclair.

"To Rochester?" Almeison sounded reluctant. "I am the new Master of the Horse; I did not come all the way from Germany to deliver messages and escort grieving families."

John Brown and Charles Phipps looked bewildered at the brief defiance.

But Queen Victoria only laughed it off. "Indeed, but this is an order from me, Lady Coburg, my little Allie. You are to take Grey to Rochester, and well, perhaps play along and do what it takes to amuse yourself."

* * *

The line went dead after Grey's revelation of Anne-Sophie's death. His grandfather, Lord Henry Grey, did not sound at least mournful of the death, no less than Charles ever was. There was silence in the room before the composed himself to race downstairs. He knew what the queen wanted; he simply needed to play her game, was all. Looking outside the window from the hallway, he saw Almeison and Phipps waiting for him, with the former playing around with her black stallion.

"Dead before her time," Grey murmured, referring to the deceased Lady Frome.

He remembered her as the loveliest of the brides presented to him by his grandfather. Her hair was brown like the dark chocolate on a cake. Her eyes were the deepest shade of brown, and her lips always curled into a sweet smile. Yet he never liked her. She was too obsessed in keeping her beauty in check, and would never stop from talking about the gossips. She went as far to mention the failed Phantomhive Manor banquet, which triggered Grey's temper to rise.

When he reached the main gates of Buckingham Palace, he was surprised that even Phipps was coming.

"Afraid that you'll miss me, huh~?"

"Not really, but Her Majesty wants someone stable to handle things, in case you break down and _cry_ ," Phipps answered, and Almeison snickered behind him.

Grey scoffed. "Cry? Don't make me laugh. I _will_ cry if she ends up alive and forces me to marry her. Just thinking about her being my wife is scary enough." He shuddered, imagining his days of coping with a nagging wife.

"Enough, enough." Almeison clapped her hands and mounted her stallion. "The sooner we leave, the sooner we arrive in Rochester, and then _leave_ again."

The Double Charles agreed and climbed to their grand white carriage. Phipps held the reins as Grey leaned back against the wooden frame, arms crossed behind his head. His bored eyes looked ahead of the road. Almeison was riding smoothly at the side of the white carriage, dressed in a simple green vest, cream breeches, and black knee-high leather boots. Her hair was pulled up into an ornate bun adorned with a green flower hairpin.

"So, how long to Rochester again?"

"Half a day, if we do not get distracted." Phipps eyes his partner threateningly.

"What~?" Grey simpered. "As if I will get distracted on the road."

* * *

Upon reaching the city, all Ciel Phantomhive could see were cathedrals and other architecture built back in the Dark Ages. His single blue eye feasted on the beauty of the place, of the green gardens and large townhouses lining on the horizon. The place was not so different from London, though Rochester was more quiet and peaceful. He knew that even Sebastian was enjoying the different place; it had been a while since both master and servant had been away from the manor house.

"The Frome Manor is located on top of a hill," Ciel reminded Sebastian.

Not long after, the manor loomed above them. Its buttresses resembled that of an Old Catholic cathedral, complete with colourful stained glasses, and large wooden double doors as the main entrance. The gates were rusty and creaking when Sebastian pushed them open, and admitted their dark carriage in. The gardens were tended well, and the fountain behind the mansion polished.

When their carriage halted, a large bloodhound burst from the double doors and barked at them.

"Mutt." Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the hound. His ruby eyes flashed magenta in a split second, which made the hound whine and return to the stairs.

"I expected a better welcoming from the family." Ciel sighed as he stepped down the carriage. He handed his hat to Sebastian and climbed the stairs.

As if on cue, the doors opened and out came an elderly butler, seemingly in his early sixties.

"I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, and here to investigate under Her Majesty's orders." He presented the letter with the Queen's red seal.

The butler squinted his eyes at the handwriting before he nodded. "Please, do follow me, young earl. We were told of your arrival. Please come."

Ciel looked up to the butler. "Who told you I am coming?"

"I am not allowed to speak beyond my master's orders." The old butler had a bald patch at the top of his head, and wore a monocle for his right eye. Like any other butler, he wore black suit and pants, only that he wore a green tie around his neck.

The inner mansion showed the style of gothic architecture. The ceiling domed where an old chandelier was hanging. Spider webs crawled in every corner of the ceiling, Ciel's very image of an abandoned mansion or a hereditary mansion held by the Frome family for generations.

"Is the corpse of Lady Anne-Sophie here?"

The butler nodded. "Yes, but only few people are allowed to see it."

"What?" Ciel looked confused. "Not even Lord Frome looked at his sister's corpse?"

"He simply did not allow it. He wanted everyone to be present before the real investigation begins. All is here, Earl Phantomhive, only you and your butler are the pair missing." He opened a door to a large gothic drawing room.

As Ciel and Sebastian entered, the occupants of the room turned around to acknowledge his presence.

" _You_ , what are you—" Ciel stopped short.

Charles Grey smirked arrogantly. "You're late, Earl Phantomhive. You made my bride wait and cold in her coffin."

* * *

* _Ich bin durstig - I am thirsty._

 **Author's Notes:** Good to be back after a few weeks of absence! How's everyone doing? We finally get to have a move-on, and we're taking the story all the way to the historical city of Rochester. Speaking of history, I added more tidbits about Prince Albert: he did live in Rosenau Palace with his older brother Ernst. Ernst had a childless marriage, though he did have several illegitimate children (possibly with different women) afterwards. I used this part to envision Almeison's character.

* **Emmanuel Park** \- Underdicker! LOL. Time to hide yo wife, hide yo kids! And my, what a coincidence your penname was Allie, too! If you need help about Victoria topics, perhaps I could help. The Victorian era is such a wonderful subject to study. I wished I lived back then to dress in the same manner they did. XD Thank you for the review~!

* **DeLacus** \- Aww, you learned German in school? I am jealous! Here I am racking my brains to get the sentences right! XD

Yes, OMG Snake and his little snake friends! Queen Victoria and her trio of good-looking butlers! *sighs* She gets all the good stuff, all right (but not Prince Albert!). Have you read Chap 108? Undertaker continues acting so strangely, yet in a mysteriously good way. LOL

P.S. Grey and Phipps as angels! It would fit quite good because of their appearances. Grey looks more like the love-child between Ash and Angela (if that could even happen, XD). If they are angels, however, I just hope they don't turn out to be as OCD as Ash ever was. I think John Brown is more like a Grim Reaper because of his sunglasses, but maybe Yana Toboso is just fooling us. Because it seems a little obvious and we know she doesn't do that.

Don't be sorry about being so chatty! I love talking about Kuro, too~!

* **Juliedoo** \- You've read Vault of Bones? Thanks so much for reading! *hugs you* I hope you enjoy this as well! Almeison could be endearing... but she could get a little _not_ endearing when she shows more attitude later on. Thank you for the review!

P.S. to everybody: Once again, I thank everyone who has taken their time to read and favourite/follow the story. It means so much! Have a very nice day ahead!

(^._.^)ﾉ — A cat for Sebastian! XD


	4. Into the Catacombs

**Chapter 04**

 _ **Into the Catacombs**_

* * *

Ciel Phantomhive needed time to digest that the Double Charles were in there. He was even more baffled to see Her Serene Highness sitting casually on the couch beside Phipps. The three of them looked expectantly at him, as though he was a dog that would do a trick anytime soon. When everything seemed so quiet and out of place, Almeison finally broke the silence by approaching Ciel and shaking his hand.

"Welcome to Rochester, Earl Phantomhive." She smiled at him, and then beamed to Sebastian. " _Guten tag_ , Sebastian."

" _Guten tag, Dame_ Coburg." Sebastian bowed to her.

"You must be tired," Phipps added, standing from the couch and gesturing the two newcomers to have a seat. Ciel sat on the couch parallel to Earl Grey, while Sebastian stood behind his master.

"I shall call the rest of the family." The old Frome butler excused himself.

"We meet again, Earl Phantomhive~" Charles Grey looked cheerful for such a dreary place. "Is it truly that surprising to see us here? You must remind yourself that the victim was my fiancée; it is my duty to send my deepest condolences." Yet he leaned back and yawned in boredom. "This manor isn't very lively, hm?"

"I'll say," Ciel agreed. He wondered if Grey actually cared for his fiancée. If what happened to Lady Frome happened to Elizabeth, Ciel was sure to hunt the killer and make him suffer. Moreover, the Midfords would not let their young daughter be harmed, let alone Edward, who loved and adored his little sister greatly.

"Have you met the little dove?" Grey prompted. "Anne-Sophie, I mean."

Ciel's single eye narrowed at the smirking silver-haired earl. "No, but I heard stories about her prior of my coming here. She is regarded as an extremely beautiful young lady." No, he _never_ heard anything about that, but he supposed it was only a courtesy to compliment the lady who was raped and treated like a dog before she was murdered.

"She was talented in music," Grey went on, recalling how his little fiancée played the piano on their first meeting. He was captivated when she played Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_ , and was almost eager to marry her. "She laughed ever so softly, and had the habit of running her fingers through her brown hair," he remembered.

"A true noblewoman of our time," Phipps agreed.

Grey laughed it off. "Maybe, but she was no more than another little lady born to please her lord."

"Careful, Earl Grey," Ciel warned, as he heard several footsteps approaching. "Lady Frome is to be mourned, not insulted in her own home."

The doors creaked to announce the arrival of the family members.

A young man in his early twenties stepped forward, his light brown hair combed back. He wore black all over—tailcoat, pants, gloves, and boots—to indicate his period of mourning. But his cheerful hazel eyes scanned the drawing room, as if excited to have many visitors in their mansion.

"Nathaniel Frome," he introduced himself, as the Double Charles and Ciel went forward to greet him. "Thank you for your coming, especially you, Earl Grey. Annie was asking constantly for you in days. It is such a shame you were not there at her side when she died." A sad smile crossed his handsome face.

"I am very sorry for your loss," Grey answered.

Ciel stared at Grey, who had been smirking only a few moments ago. _He is supposed to be mourning_ , he thought.

Beside Lord Frome, a little girl dressed in black and grey veil clutched her brother's gloved hand. She had the same brown hair and hazel eyes of her brother and deceased sister. Looking down at her, Grey was reminded of his supposed fiancée.

"This is Marianne," Nathaniel introduced his five-year-old sister.

"Hello, Marianne." Grey smiled charmingly down at her, but the little girl only hid further behind her brother's black coat.

Lord Frome chuckled. "Such a shy child. I am sorry, Earl Grey." His eyes darted to Almeison's direction, who did not stand up from the couch from which she sat.

Grey noticed that he was eyeing his companion, and went on to introduce her. "Her Ducal Serene Highness Almeison von Coburg, daughter of the Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha, and the niece of Prince Albert."

Hearing her name called out, Almeison went in front of Nathaniel and bowed a little. "My condolences, Lord Frome," she said.

"Thank you, Your Serene Highness." Nathaniel took her hand and kissed it.

More introductions ensued. Earl Phantomhive and his black-clad butler were introduced; Charles Phipps stepped forward to introduce himself as one of the Secretarial Officers. At length, Grey rolled his eyes and looked exasperated.

"Can we now start the investigation? I would want to know how my _beloved_ was mistreated, and so that we can hunt the suspect down," he offered, feigning a dramatic and distressed sigh.

"Of course." Nathaniel Frome uneasily replied, and nodded to his butler. "Rickard, lead the way, if you would please."

Rickard went off. "Then please, ladies and gentlemen, follow me to the catacombs."

"Catacombs?" Ciel asked suspiciously.

Nathaniel smiled, expecting such a reaction. "As you can see, Earl Phantomhive, Rochester is a completely historical city. Our tourist attractions are mainly historical, even our architectures are still inspired by the Middle Ages. The Frome mansion itself is inspired by that—our family keeps underground tunnels and escape routes, and catacombs for dead family members."

The group traversed through the old hallways of the mansion. The entrance to the catacombs was located at the corner of the vast kitchen, with a large boulder serving as the doors. Rickard stepped forward to roll the boulder to the side. A cold howling of the wind emerged from the dark tunnel. Little Marianne clung to her brother tightly; Grey gulped and squeezed himself between Phipps and Almeison; Ciel took a deep breath and glanced at Sebastian.

"This way please." Rickard took three burning torches and gave the other two to Grey and Sebastian.

Lord Frome looked at them. "Ready to go?"

"Definitely," Ciel answered.

And they went down into the catacombs.

For some reason, water was dripping from the ceiling of the cave. Rickard went on to explain that somewhere in the underground tunnel, there was a river which flowed directly to the River Medway. The walls of the tunnel first seemed like ordinary walls with undetermined turns and corners, with sharp stalactites and stalagmites scattered around.

"How long has this tunnel been down here, Lord Frome?" Phipps questioned, holding the torch higher to get better view. His other hand guided Almeison around the tunnel, making sure that she would not slip on the slippery floor.

"Hundreds of years." Nathaniel smiled back.

"And why did you choose this place to keep your younger sister's corpse?" Ciel questioned this time.

"A family custom," he answered curtly.

"Did the local Scotland Yard start the investigation on their own? Where did they find Lady Anne-Sophie's corpse?" Ciel continued.

"At a forest not so far from here. Anne's been out to celebrate a party in her friend's house. She is to stay overnight there, but she suddenly turned up dead on the next three mornings." His hazel eyes showed his deepest regrets. "The bloodhounds caught her scent, which led the Scotland Yard to her reeking body. She was naked from head to toe, her long hair cut from the scalp, and a burn stamped across her left back."

"What kind of burn?" Almeison asked out of curiosity.

"I don't understand what it is supposed to mean."

"Does the Scotland Yard have any leads yet?" Phipps asked.

"Not much. They are currently questioning Anne's friend."

Suddenly, Rickard halted.

"Are we here?" Grey blinked.

During their conversation, they had never noticed that the cave wall shifted into polished walls, painted in dark green. Instead of torches, lamps and candles already hung on the walls and ceilings. The once slippery floor was now solid and tiled, adorned with patterns of flowers. Several paintings hung on the walls as well, of the previous family members who had lived in the Frome mansion.

In the middle of the room, there was a green casket with golden filigrees, surrounded by bouquets of red and white roses. Golden candelabrums were on either side of the casket. Behind it, picture frames and wardrobes lined up. Anne-Sophie's personal belongings—dresses, jewelleries, and brushes—were piled up in one corner.

It was the creepiest shrine for the dead all of them had seen.

Only Sebastian smiled enigmatically, clearly enjoying the revelation.

 _He's insane_ , Ciel observed.

"You keep her in... _there_?" Grey pointed incredulously at grand casket.

"A family custom," Nathaniel Frome said once more in his defence. "There are other caskets like this in the other rooms. If we have time, I will show you one by one. But this is where I keep my sister, and I will not bury her without learning who murdered her."

The atmosphere in the room turned gloomy.

"May I see the burned stamp you are referring to, Lord Frome?" Almeison interjected. She was clinging on Phipps's arm the whole time, and pressed herself closer to him upon seeing the underground shrine of Anne-Sophie Frome.

Nathaniel smiled his charming smile again, much to Grey's irritation.

"Rickard, please open the casket." He patted his little sister's head, and said softly, "Close your eyes, Marie."

Marianne nodded obediently and closed her eyes.

The old butler grunted and reached out to open the door of the casket. A reeking scent emerged, which prompted the visitors, except Sebastian, to cover their noses. Almeison buried her face on Phipps's back, trying to get the foul smell out of her nose.

As expected, Charles Grey and Ciel Phantomhive stepped toward the casket.

The beautiful Anne-Sophie Frome was barely recognizable. There were only few locks left from her dark brown hair; her head shaved seemingly in a rush. Her neck was still red from the evident bite marks of the suspect; her cheeks and shoulders dappled with faded bruises. Her once red lips were now cold and pale. She wore pink dress within her green casket, with her lower body completely concealed by a white blanket.

 _This is not how she wanted to be remembered_ , Grey thought.

He barely knew his fiancée, but he knew she had a good heart. Despite her knack for her beauty and gossips, Anne-Sophie was a family woman, and cared so much for her brother and sister. Even if he did not want to marry her, she could have chosen another man who deserved her love and attention. She wished for children and a good house, to have a loving husband at her side; not to be raped and treated _lower_ than a dog.

"You said something about a burned stamp?" Ciel prompted, looking away from the cold corpse. He had seen enough dead people, and Anne-Sophie was no different at all.

"Yes, of course. But it would be disrespectful to strip her of her dress and roll her in the casket." Nathaniel shook his head. "I will not allow it, but I do have a copy of the stamp in my office. I will give it to you, Earl Phantomhive, if you want."

It was not what Ciel wanted to hear, but he had nothing else to do but agree. "Very well. We leave Lady Frome in her temporary grave. Let us leave the catacombs already."

Rickard turned his heels once again to lead the nobles out of the reeking catacombs. Charles Grey took one final glance at his fiancée, before Lord Frome himself hurriedly shut the door of the casket. Grey raised an eyebrow when he saw Almeison clinging on to Phipps's arm, as though the two were already close friends.

Once outside the catacombs, Grey flopped on the couch and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Man, I thought a ghost or two would appear!" He certainly did not like the idea of Anne-Sophie's ghost lingering around.

Almeison sat beside him, shaking her head. "Scary downstairs, but it was fun. Right, Phipps?"

"Indeed." Phipps took the seat parallel to the pair. He paused briefly to watch Ciel and Sebastian follow Nathaniel Frome towards the other room. When the three of them were out of his sight, he leaned closer to his companions and whispered, "What shall we do next? Lord Frome is clearly hiding something from us."

"And why not?" Grey shrugged and laid his feet on the table. "He didn't even tell us he's going to serve Earl Grey tea to accommodate us," he sarcastically continued. With his left foot, he knocked the teapot, spilling its contents on the wooden table and marbled floor.

"Will you stop it with your Earl Grey tea issues?" Almeison sighed exasperatedly.

Grey glared at her. "And what do you want to hear from me? Mourn for the little brat? No, I don't do that, _Your Serene Highness_." He spat her titles like they were poison. "Mind your own business."

"I will mind my own business and I will do it without _your_ help."

Phipps pinched the bridge of his nose, as Grey and Almeison began to argue and throw insults at each other.

"Stop glaring at me, you _twerp_!" She shouted at him.

"Oh, it's down to name-calling now, huh?" Grey looked bemused. "I'll beat you at your own game, _loser_."

Almeison gasped for a moment, and then called, " _Airhead!_ "

" _Nincompoop_!"

" _Lunatic_!"

"Ha! You can be the Duchess of _Dork_!"

"And you're the Earl of _Nerdville_!"

Grey jerked up from his seat. "I am not a nerd!"

"Sure, you are! Anyway, _smartass_!"

"Back off, you _klutz_."

"Shut up, _nerd_."

" _Ugly_!"

" _Schwachkopf_!"

"Don't you speak German against me! What was that supposed to mean?!"

Finally, Charles Phipps held up his hands to indicate silence. The arguing pair instantly fell silent. "Are we done?"

Almeison immediately smiled. "I do believe we are. Please continue."

"Alright." Phipps cleared his throat and continued to whisper, "What do we plan on doing? Her Majesty made it clear that Earl Phantomhive should resolve the rape case on his own. But what of _our_ mission?"

"Our mission is to simply investigate the Frome family," Grey answered as if it was the easiest answer in the world. "With Nathaniel breaking apart after Anne's death, I'm sure information will drop sooner or later." He smirked at Almeison's direction. "Right, Allie?"

She shrugged. "Either way, I will end up involved, am I not?"

"Indeed," Phipps agreed. "You know how to manoeuvre your way through people, as Her Majesty reassured us the other day. Do you think you can handle Lord Frome?"

"Of course," Almeison answered confidently. "You can have the servants. None of them seem interesting to me. I only need a brief background of everyone in the household. You two shall provide it for me, while the Watchdog is busy sniffing the suspect's trails."

"Are you sure?" Grey suddenly looked concerned. "I mean, can you handle Nathaniel Frome? Judging from our past reports, he has a hobby of hunting game in the woods, accompanied by his bloodhounds. He has eccentric taste in hunting, I am telling you."

"So? What's your point?"

"My point is: it is dangerous to handle him alone."

Almeison laughed. "Oh, come on, Charles. I've handled a German Kaiser before. What makes you think I can't handle a simple weirdo from Rochester?"

* * *

The room was filled with stuffed animals, ranging from wolves to badgers. Taxidermy heads of moose and deer hung on each corner of the chamber. A family of stuffed tigers were gathered at the farthermost corner of the place—two adult tigers and three cubs. A rhinoceros horn was encased within a glass box; a mounted Dwarf lanternshark was standing by his wooden desk. The iron fireplace was flanked by two mounted wolves, both grey and almost alive; their fangs were bared, as if ready to pounce on anyone who entered the room.

Ciel and Sebastian stared in both awe and suspicion.

"Please, come inside," Nathaniel offered. He passed through several of his collections, most of which he successfully hunted and killed from different forests in England.

"You have rather strange interests, Lord Frome," Ciel observed, as he reached out for the stuffed wolf beside the fireplace. The fur felt warm and soft, almost alive. For a moment, he thought the wolf's grey eyes moved.

Nathaniel chuckled. "Many people say that. I have been interested in hunting since I was a child. That sparrow over there is my first kill." He pointed his index finger towards the mounted brown sparrow at the top of his bookshelf.

"Did Lady Anne have the same interests?" Sebastian asked.

"Barely," Nathaniel replied, running a hand through his thick brown hair. "My sister is more interested in city gossips, and the arts and music."

Seeing all the stuffed animals made Ciel's stomach swirl.

"You mentioned something about showing us the burn stamp found on Lady Anne's back?"

"That's right." Nathaniel went to his wooden desk and rummaged through the compartments. He pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper and gave it to Ciel for inspection. "It is only a rough drawing from one of the Scotland Yard artists," he said.

Ciel took his time on analyzing the image in front of him. The stamp showed a snake biting its own tail to make a ring. He had never seen such symbol before. Thus, he held up the paper to give his butler a better look.

"A snake," Sebastian murmured thoughtfully. "Snakes are interpreted differently in hundreds of cultures."

"But a snake biting its own tail?" Ciel scoffed and looked at Nathaniel Frome. "I think I know where to start."

* * *

 **Author's Notes** : Ah, forgive me for not updating in a month! I barely had the time to rewrite and edit the draft. I hope this one compensates for the long wait! I should also mention that most of the insults above are not used during the Victorian Era. I used it simply for the purposes of humour.

* **InLuvWithCandy** \- Thank you very much! I love your name! XD

* **Emmanuel Park** \- To hell with Grey's fiancée! LOL. I'm glad you're excited for the story! Thank you! *returns the thumbs-up*

* **Mizuhara Yukie** \- Yup, I think Queen Victoria wants to play matchmaker, with her eyes set on Allie and Grey! It'd be fun if she does so. Writing Grey throwing a tantrum in their office was an opportunity I can't miss. He would have destroyed everything in his path, but would definitely calm down when food is offered to him. LOL. Thank you for the review!


	5. Seduction, He Said

**Chapter 05**

 _ **Seduction, He Said**_

* * *

"Here."

Charles Grey tossed a frilly pink evening dress at her face.

"What is this for?!" Almeison irritably removed the offending fabric from her face and held it up. The puffed sleeves had cream laces and there was a darker shade of pink ribbon around the waist. A flower pattern rounded the collar and the chest, with light green swirling patterns around the hips.

"If you do plan to seduce Nathaniel Frome, you need to present yourself well as a lady."

She gave him a bewildered look. "Who said I'll seduce him through _this_ kind of means?"

He shrugged innocently. "How should I know? You're the expert in this field. We're simply here to help."

As he spoke, Phipps quietly entered the chambers offered to Almeison. The room was quite spacious and well-lit, since the wide glass window looked out to the green grassy field below the hill. A single bed was on the centre, flanked by a round table and lamppost on either side. Her wardrobe was as empty as if it was newly-purchased from the shop, except for its old smell.

"The dress goes with a pair of shoes." Phipps presented her a pair of pink shoes.

She cringed at the colour of her dress and shoes. "Don't you have a better colour? What about green or red?"

"Pink will make you look feminine," Grey commented.

Phipps nodded his head thoughtfully. "And it will bring out the colour of your hair."

" _Gut, gut_ ," Almeison grumbled and turned around to examine the frilly dress even more.

Behind her, the Double Charles made their way towards the door. Phipps closed the door as Grey sighed and leaned against the wall, bored eyes looking at the sunset painting hanging.

The hallway was dimly-lit, as it did during the Middle Ages. In the Frome mansion, Grey felt like they travelled back in time. The Frome Family truly preserved their traditions and customs. The mansion had few servants, as Grey noticed. There was the old butler Rickard, a quiet maid and lady-in-waiting of both little Marianne and the deceased Anne-Sophie, and a haughty steward who scoffed at Grey when he entered the kitchens for a "light" afternoon snack.

"Stay here," Phipps instructed, already walking towards the stairs. "I will check on the dinner preparations." He went down the steps, leaving his partner behind.

Grey yawned and scratched his teary eyes. _What's taking her so long?_

In the next few minutes, he heard a shuffling of fabric and some German curses coming from the room. He almost rushed in when he heard a loud thud from inside, until Almeison shouted at him not to enter. Grumbling, he returned on leaning against the wall and waited again. Then, he heard the door creaking open.

Almeison stepped forward in her pink evening dress, her pale shoulders bared since the dress sported an off-shoulder fashion. The cream-coloured laces provided little warmth. She wore matching lacy gloves that reached to her elbows. She fixed her light blonde hair into a simple curly ponytail.

"Well?" She cocked her head to the side, twirling to give Grey a better look. Earlier, she practiced how to walk and curtsy, to smile and laugh so demurely that it would catch Lord Frome's attention. She liked to practice; she liked to know that she was prepared. Everything had to be perfect tonight.

He hummed in appreciation. "Not half bad, Allie. Lord Frome ought to fall for you tonight."

"I don't want that." She shuddered at the thought. "Besides, I am 100% sure this idea of yours and Phipps will not work."

"Why not? Manipulating men involves seduction, right? Men are always easy to seduce." Grey had little to no experience of being seduced by a woman, let alone a pretty woman.

She smiled charmingly. "Easy, you say? If I were to seduce you now, would you fall for me?"

"What?" He scoffed haughtily. "As if I'll fall for someone who always smells like a horse."

Suddenly, Almeison spun her heels and hurried down the steps, shouting, "How dare you!"

Grey flinched and quickly ran after her. Almeison found Phipps standing idly on the corner of a hallway. She latched herself to him, clinging on his arm, while hiding behind his tall frame. Grey followed next, panting and looking haggard, as he tried to catch his breath.

"Phipps, remove him from my sight!" Almeison pointed a finger at Grey's direction.

"Don't listen to her!" Grey shouted at his partner's face.

"What did you do?" Phipps demanded, eyes narrowing at the two bickering nobles.

"He insulted me!"

"Oh, I didn't know Her Serene Highness is _not_ allowed to be insulted!"

"Don't start with those titles, Earl Charles _Henry_ Grey!"

Grey gasped disdainfully. "Stop saying my full name! It's uncomfortable!"

"Your full name _stinks_! And don't you dare talk to me!"

Almeison pulled Phipps by the arm and led him to the dining table where Ciel, Sebastian, and the rest of the Frome household were waiting. It appeared that only the three of them were missing. Once Almeison and Phipps entered, Ciel and Nathaniel stood up from their seats, a form of acknowledgement. Nathaniel went as far as to kiss Almeison's gloved hand when she reached the head of the table, and then guided her to sit on his right, while his little sister Marianne, Ciel, and Phipps sat on his left. When Grey arrived, he was forced to sit beside Almeison, and he slumped angrily at his seat.

Rickard served the evening course: _maultaschen_ , _sauerkraut_ , and Hamburg steaks made from soy beans (to accommodate Almeison's German nationality); custard choux cream and Darjeeling tea (as requested by Charles Grey); and roasted turkey, salted pork, and milk tea (for Ciel Phantomhive).

Dinner went well, as far as Grey was concerned. Almeison proceeded on entertaining Nathaniel Frome with sweet words and feigned laughter. She would touch his arm every once in a while, run her hands through her light blonde hair, and stare at him with her deep indigo eyes. Nathaniel did not seem to recognize any of her advances. But he laughed with her during a conversation, with Ciel and Phipps eventually joining them.

After dinner, Nathaniel invited them to the entertainment room, where he persuaded Her Serene Highness to play the piano for them.

Grey smirked, well-knowing that Almeison was not the one for music. It had always been Anne-Sophie.

"I don't play the piano very well." _Damn_. She should have practiced! Who knew Lord Frome would ask for music on day one?

Nathaniel only smiled. "Something tells me you do, Lady Coburg."

Taking a deep breath, Almeison settled herself in front of the large pianoforte. Her fingers traced lightly on the ivory keys. She desperately tried to remember what Baron Jakob taught her many years ago. Beethoven? Schubert? Mendelssohn? Those were all Prince Albert's favourite composers, when he was still alive. In the end, she decided to play a simpler song.

She began to work on the piano, biting her lower lip once more as she tried not to make any mistakes. She should have _really_ practiced.

 _Pachelbel_ , Grey knew the music. _Canon in D Major, her favourite._

Once the song was finished, everyone in the room clapped. Nathaniel went forward and kissed Almeison's hand again; the third time as Grey counted since their arrival that afternoon. He eavesdropped as Nathaniel invited her to have an evening walk in the gardens, which she eagerly agreed to. She intertwined her arm with his and followed him outside.

"It would do you better if you stop glaring, Earl Grey."

Ciel approached him with a sly smile across his face, and was accompanied by his butler. He looked up to Grey and gave him a mocking look, his single blue eye glinting in the same mischievous way Almeison looked at him when she was entertaining Lord Frome.

"I am not glaring, Earl Phantomhive."

"Sure, you are." Ciel chuckled. "You've been glaring at them since dinner. Now, why would that be? You don't trust Her Serene Highness to Lord Frome?"

"I don't trust anybody in the place," Grey answered tersely, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at Ciel in obvious disdain.

"It's true: do not trust anyone. But what of Lady Coburg herself? Do you trust her?"

Grey hesitated, looking at the direction where Nathaniel and Almeison disappeared. He shook his head. "Among all the people here, I don't trust her the most."

"Why not?" Ciel pressed.

"If Her Majesty trusts her, it is the very reason you should _not_ trust her. Sooner or later, you'll have to speak with her. When you do, be careful. She likes to play the merry little Allie, but underneath she's as shrewd as the Queen." Grey smirked. "You've already had the taste of that."

Ciel shuddered, remembering the little performance they pulled last March. "I did."

Grey yawned again. "Either way, just be careful around Allie. A harp can be a dangerous weapon if left in the wrong hands." He waved goodbye to the younger earl. "Good night, Earl Phantomhive."

As he passed, he bumped into Sebastian. Glaring up at the black-haired butler, Grey scowled and left.

* * *

The Double Charles jumped up in surprise when their Almeison von Coburg stormed back into her chambers. She looked like a stressed woman rather than the beautiful noblewoman that she looked a few hours ago. She shut the door loud enough to let everyone hear, while the two Charles exchanged bewildered glances. She kicked the two pink shoes away and proceeded to glare at them.

"I assume the seduction did not work well?" Phipps began in his soft, quiet voice.

"It _never_ worked in the first place!" She snatched the gloves and threw it at Grey's face. "It was your idea to seduce him!"

Grey held his hands up in defence, and growled. "But I never said it would work."

She glared and mockingly declared, " _'Men are always easy to seduce'_ , you said! Next time, I will do my own business." She hurriedly pulled on the strings that held her outer dress altogether, the pink fabric slowly falling off her creamy shoulders.

"H-Hey! What are you doing?!" Grey turned the lightest shade of red, as Almeison slid the outer clothing down her hips.

"I am getting out of this dress." She tugged on the skirt lower and let it pool around her bare feet, leaving her with nothing but a thin white inner dress. Like the shoes, she kicked the pink fabric away, her thin skirts swaying and revealing more and more skin. When she spied Grey and Phipps staring at her in bewilderment, she narrowed her eyes and demanded, "Get out of here or I will strip right here and now!"

Immediately, Grey pulled Phipps by the arm and slammed the door shut.

When they were gone, Almeison smirked to herself and began to undress quietly.

"Damn, something is wrong with her brain!?" Grey complained outside the chambers.

Phipps hummed quietly. "I see. So this is how manipulation works..."

"What?"

"Manipulating a person does not necessarily mean you should seduce them through _sexual_ means. There are other ways to get something out of people. Take Lady Coburg's example just now. She made it look like she is frustrated and angry, and threatened us with blackmail. A normal person would definitely leave the room, seeing as Lady Coburg is beginning to remove her garments."

Grey raised a brow. "So... what's your point? Allie manipulated us just now?"

"Yes," Phipps agreed. "And she did it perfectly, and without our knowledge."

* * *

The next morning, Almeison rose early to prepare. She bathed and dressed herself in riding clothes, the usual vest, breeches, and knee-high boots. Her light blonde hair was pulled up into a tight bun, and her hands were covered with warm black gloves. She proceeded downstairs and politely refused Rickard's breakfast invitation, reasoning that she was set to do her daily morning ride. When she arrived at the stables, she found Nathaniel gearing up his dapple grey horse.

"Good morning, Lady Coburg." Nathaniel smiled. He wore a similar riding clothes just as she was, only that his were all black, except for his white undershirt. His brown hair was neatly combed back, with few strands falling to his forehead.

" _Guten Morgen_ ," Almeison answered, as she found out last night that Nathaniel learned little German when he was a boy. She went to her large Friesian horse and handed him an apple for breakfast. The black stallion neighed and trotted eagerly.

"A very energetic one," Nathaniel commented, laughing. "My Rain is not half as energetic." He gestured at his white mare, which neighed softly.

"She's beautiful. Are you going to ride today, Lord Frome?" She smiled.

"Going for a hunt, actually," he said, saddling his horse. "Would you like to come with me?"

Almeison supposed he was giving one of his disarming smiles, just like now. Nathaniel might be handsome, a gentleman as any noblewoman's dreams, but he was as plain as eggs and bacon served for breakfast; he might be kind and gentle, but he was exuding with an air of suspiciousness that no one, not even Ciel Phantomhive, would not dare to overlook. Compared to the fourteen-year-old earl, Nathaniel was agreeable but had no specialties; and comparing Nathaniel to Charles Grey was like choosing between a rich gentleman and a country boy.

She also saddled her black stallion, and mounted him when Nathaniel mounted his Rain. He gave signal to his steward, a lanky young man with thick auburn hair and shy blue eyes. The horses bolted forward instantly. A bloodhound followed their trail, and Nathaniel introduced him as Bruno, the Frome family dog. He led Almeison towards the forest where he often hunted alone, as none of his younger sisters showed interest in hunting.

The forest was dense and misty; few shafts of sunlight squeezed through the thick green leaves that almost served as roofs. Dried brown leaves creaked as their horses passed through. Broken branches were scattered all over; thick thorny bushes swayed at the slightest howl of cold wind.

"Did you always want to hunt?" Almeison asked, sliding down from the back of her horse.

Nathaniel shook his head. "Not really. When I saw my grandfather shooting a deer down, I was amazed. Since then, I always tagged along when he went out to hunt." He pulled something from his leather satchel.

"You use a crossbow?" Almeison said in amazement.

"Yes, this is what I use when hunting." He held up the wooden crossbow. Its corners were painted in green-and-gold, the wood itself polished until shining. From the satchel, he pulled out one bolt and showed her how it was mounted. "You take the lever to pull the string back. The bolt goes here and you simply aim."

Nathaniel aimed between the trees. He fell silent for a few minutes, until he pulled on the trigger. The bolt flew at the speed of a pistol bullet, taking down whatever animal he aimed at. Almeison was continuously amazed as he went off to collect his hunt, and returned with a dead hare in his hands. The bolt went right through its stomach, blood exuding slowly from the gaping mouth, as the dark bulging eyes of the hare became lifeless.

"For you," he said, sounding very proud of himself. As he presented the hare, the blood from its mouth trickled down to his sleeves, which made Almeison cringe and look away. "We ought to stuff and mount it inside my chambers." He paused briefly, and continued, "Come to think of it: You've never been in my room before. You will be surprised at my collection."

Almeison feigned an enthusiastic smile. "I do believe I will enjoy that, my lord."

"Would you like to hold it?" He presented the crossbow to her.

"Yes, please." She tried to ignore the blood on his sleeve.

Nathaniel positioned himself behind her, wrapped his arms _around_ her as he guided the crossbow within her hands. The hare's warm blood touched her skin, which Nathaniel himself did not seem to notice at all. Almeison was able to hold the bow properly, and was even allowed to attach another bolt on the string. They aimed at the nothingness ahead, waiting for the next animal to kill.

"If you found out who killed your sister, would you kill him with this crossbow?"

He nodded sullenly. "I will kill him, even if this is the last bolt that I have."

Almeison turned around and returned the wooden crossbow back to him, assessing the depressed look on his face. "Then, save the bolt for the most important kill, Lord Frome."

* * *

The pair returned to the Frome Manor an hour before luncheon was served. Rickard and little Marianne were there to welcome them. Nathaniel carried his little sister inside the mansion and laughed with her all the way in, whilst the Double Charles were waiting for the arrival of their little lady.

When Grey took a sniff, he found out Almeison smelled of horses again, much to his despair.

"Where have you been?" He demanded, grey eyes coldly glaring at her. "Do you have any idea how Phipps and I were looking for you? We were worried."

Almeison laughed softly. "Relax, will you? I only went to seduce Lord Frome in the forest, Charles Henry Grey."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I plead guilty for not updating for more than a month. I had some papers to finish for school (because school sucks and we are aware of that). But now that it is time for the long-awaited holidays, I am sure I could update sooner. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter of a game called seduction. If it happened the other way around, I would have fallen instantly for Grey.

By the way, has anyone seen the latest Kuroshitsuji chapter yet? Sebastian was most adorable with his "little lady". XD

* **Overlord Rousdower** \- Ooh, greetings once again, my Lord! Yes, I could see Grey doing the Z-snap when Almeison started ranting at him. And yes, you did get her name right. You're right again; there should be more Charles Grey fics. Our silver-haired earl needs more love!

* **Emmanuel Park** \- In German, _schwachkopf_ means "idiot" or "dimwit" (at least according to my research). LOL Allie and Grey being children and just calling out names. Phipps is the father who stops his kids from quarrelling. Now THAT'S another idea for a story. XD I do love writing Grey. I know it might seem a little comical, but from what little Yana Toboso has shown us, he seems like someone who is suspicious about some things, but then becomes too lax about others. He's a little confusing, our beloved Grey is.

* **Alpaca** \- Thank you, and I am glad you're enjoying it so far! You're right about the nerd; it was actually out of time and place. I was learning about curses during the Victorian Era and most of what I've discovered had sexual meanings. I really didn't want Grey to say some of those things; I kind of see him as a gentleman, too. :)

* **Mizuhara Yukie** \- Ah, yes, Charles Grey—the chaotic evil. I think I'm wrong but I can't put his character into words. As the Earl Grey, he doesn't care about his supposed fiancee, but as a human being (if he's really a human), him respecting Anne was a bit show of his morals.

* **Scarlet Wolf** \- Quite right! As what was mentioned in the first chapter, Grey and Almeison knew each other as children. They do not see each other as a lord and lady, or as an earl and a royalty—they're just childhood friends reunited. :)


	6. The Office

**Chapter 06**

 _ **The Office**_

* * *

The bell rang once Ciel Phantomhive entered the pathetic place what the Scotland Yard of Rochester called 'office'.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?"

Sebastian nodded, though somewhat doubtful. "I believe so, young master."

The place was all rickety and filled with buzzing flies. The mechanical fan on the ceiling was slowly whirring. The few officers in duty were either yawning or dozing off on their desks. One drunken officer passed by Ciel and Sebastian, spared the young earl a little incoherent greeting, and exited the sorry place. Documents were scattered all over the floor, a hot coffee gone cold splattered on the wooden stairs. One trash can was overturned, its contents spilling on the other corner. A foul smell reeked, most likely from a spoiled lunch of an unknowing officer.

"Oh, _this_ is gold. Her Majesty will be pleased to see this," Ciel commented dryly, winding his way through the place. He almost slipped on the coffee, until Sebastian caught him by the arm and steadied him again. "Thanks," he murmured and went on.

A sleeping officer glanced up from his desk, rubbed his sleepy eyes, and stared at the newcomers.

"I am looking for the Chief Superintendent here," Ciel announced, his voice full of authority.

But the officer collapsed once again on his desk and began to snore.

"Shall I?" Sebastian asked, cracking his knuckles.

Before there was a response, an ungainly person approached them. Blinking, both Ciel and Sebastian looked up.

The police officer was dressed in a double-buttoned black coat and pants, white gloves, and a golden badge upon his left breast. His hair was a shade of dirty blonde, cut short but shaggy. His rosy cheeks were dotted with obvious freckles. But as the master and servant took their time to examine the officer, they realized he was not a _he_. There was a faint hint of breasts, a barely noticeable feminine figure, and she stood a head taller than Sebastian.

"May I help you?" She looked down at Sebastian, barely noticing that there was a shorter earl in front of her.

"Ah, we are looking for the Chief Superintendent," Sebastian answered politely, feigning an innocent smile.

"We?" The officer slowly looked down and met the single blue eye of Ciel Phantomhive. "May I help you, boy?"

Sebastian snickered.

"I am here to look up the murder of Lady Anne-Sophie Frome," Ciel began, still examining the appearance of the giantess. "Are you the Superintendent?"

"No." She shook her big head, and as she spoke, Ciel saw her crooked teeth. "I am only an inspector. Why do you want to see Lady Frome's files? Those are exclusive, as everyone in Rochester knows."

 _I am not from Rochester though_ , Ciel thought. "Tell your Chief Superintendent that I am here. We'll discuss the matter starting with that." When he tried to pass through her, the sergeant immediately blocked his way.

"You are not coming beyond this point," she ordered.

"Yes, I am."

"Go home, boy. You don't know what you're doing. Is this your father?" She pointed a large finger at Sebastian. "Well, sir, you must take your son back home and go play with his dogs."

His eyebrow twitched in annoyance. _I will not have myself insulted_. "I am Her Majesty's Watchdog," he announced himself, taking a white envelope and showing Queen Victoria's handwritten name. "The name is Ciel Phantomhive, and you _will_ bring your Chief Superintendent to me, here. Right here, right now."

She cocked her head to the side. "The last Phantomhive who came here was taller and more polite," she commented, but directed them to a cleaner desk, possibly hers. "The Chief Superintendent will see you in a few minutes." She made another ungainly movement and disappeared into another room.

Ciel slumped back on the seat and caressed his aching head. "This is unbelievable."

Sebastian chuckled. "I agree, young master. Did you see her height? I felt like a child beside her."

"Shut up." Ciel snapped, sensing there was a hidden message behind that jest.

A few moments later, the tall sergeant returned with a barrel-bellied man lagging behind her. His face was red and drowsy, and quite irritated. He struggled to fix his black leather belt, one hand clutching his black pants. When he arrived at the desk where Ciel sat, he paused briefly to catch his breath. Sebastian backed away, taking a whiff of some beer.

"Earl Phantomhive," the Chief Superintendent groggily acknowledged him, reaching out to shake Ciel's hand.

Ciel drew away from his hand and only nodded. "Good morning, Chief. It took you a while to return to me."

"Sorry about that." The Chief fought to stand still. "How may I help you?"

"I want all the files concerning the murder of Lady Anne-Sophie Frome." He smirked. "You should have seen me coming here, Chief. No one murders Earl Grey's fiancée without getting away from it." He knew very well that Grey had little to no interest in marrying Lady Frome, with his eyes drawn to someone else instead.

"Right, right." The Chief clamped his belt shut and began to rummage through the drawers and desks, scattering more papers while his sergeant bent down to pick them all up. "By the way," he said, grunting, "there was a grand white carriage that pulled up in the Frome Manor. Is that yours?"

"No. It belongs to Her Majesty's Private Secretarial Officers." Ciel could feel his stomach growling. He only had little bite from the apple and raisin pie in the manor before he left. When Charles Grey stormed in the dining hall, demanding where his Lady Coburg was, Ciel had answered that Almeison went out hunting with Nathaniel.

"Ah, Earl Grey and Master Phipps. They had been here a few times before, to visit Lady Frome." The barrel-bellied superintendent pulled a thick pile of documents and dropped it loudly in front of Ciel. He began to scan each of the headlines. " _Lady Frome found dead_... _Murder or Rape?_... The list goes on and on, Earl Phantomhive. Do you want everything?"

"Yes, please." Ciel moved to receive the papers when—

"With all due respect, Chief Superintendent, you cannot simply give all our findings to a little boy, no more than fifteen years old," the female sergeant protested, sneering down at Sebastian. "We are the Scotland Yard; all cases belong to us."

"Unless Her Majesty orders me to interfere," Ciel pointed out. "And if you get in my way, you'd answer to Her Majesty's Secretarial Officers and Her Ducal Serene Highness."

"Who?" She craned her neck, looking incredulous.

"Almeison von Coburg, Prince Albert's niece. You have to review your history, miss."

"I am no miss." She scoffed.

The Chief Superintendent wheeled around upon hearing the name. " _Dame_ Coburg!" he roared enthusiastically. "She dropped by yesterday to greet everyone in the office!"

"She did?" Ciel sounded surprised.

"Yes! She was accompanied by only one man, Master Phipps I believe. She brought us many fruits, and she was most agreeable!" He let out another throaty laugh.

Ignoring him, Ciel got up from the desk as Sebastian gathered all the documents.

"I will take your leave now. Thank you for these, Chief Superintendent."

"Do you want a ride, Earl Phantomhive?"

He shook his head and went for the doorway. "No need."

When they exited the pathetic office of the Scotland Yard, Sebastian immediately prepared their carriage. He had his young master settle comfortably within, while he climbed at the coachman's seat. _I should have let Snake come with us_ , he thought. Snake may be a shy footman, but he did his job well, and he was the most competent out of all the Phantomhive servants. As he was about to snap on the horse's reins, a single raindrop fell on his wrist.

"Looks like it's going to rain, young master."

There was a growl from the carriage. "We go ahead as planned, Sebastian."

* * *

Five-year-old Marianne Frome was clapping gleefully at Charles Grey's tricks.

There were in the entertainment room, along with Charles Phipps, but only Grey seemed bemused to play around with the child. With her light brown hair bouncing, Marianne was in her simple black dress and tiny black shoes. She clapped again when Grey did his trick, much to his amusement.

"Kids are so stupid," Grey told his partner, chuckling as little Marie jumped up to catch the handkerchief from his hand. He had been performing simple magic tricks he learned from the previous Master of the Horse, before he fell ill and was replaced by Almeison.

His trick was incredibly simple: tucking a handkerchief in his fist; opened it to show the cloth was gone... only to reappear in his other hand. Then, he pulled out a golden coin from his pocket, showed it to Marie, and made it disappear. When the little girl gave up on finding it, Grey seemingly pulled it out from her ear, much to Marie's amusement.

"Stop playing around," Phipps said, as he sat comfortably on the couch. "We should be watching over Lady Coburg, not playing with children."

"Look." Grey sighed exasperatedly and gave his partner a bored look. "I could care less what Allie is doing with Lord Frome right now. For all I know, they could be doing something _intimate_ in his room."

Phipps looked aghast. "And you're fine with that?"

Grey's eyes turned solemn, and then he answered, "Well, no. But I can't help it, can I? Allie was asked by Her Majesty to come and investigate. It's not like she will mess this up for her amusement. Not like me." _She is never like me_ , he added mentally.

"She will let us know if Lord Frome does something terrible to her, right?" Phipps asked hopefully.

"How should I know? She is more unpredictable than the weather." Thunder rumbled outside as he spoke. "See? The weather in London followed us all the way in Rochester."

Marianne tried to get his attention back by sitting on his lap and reaching for his silver fringes.

"What, no, kid, stop that." Grey gently pulled the girl's hand away from his face. "Go away and play with your little dolls. That's right. Go, you little ankle-biter." He smiled fondly as he watched little Marie scamper towards her enormous dollhouse and began to play.

Phipps smiled as well. "You will make a good brother and father."

"Shut up." Grey shrugged.

"And why not? Her Majesty would be happy for you, and she'll— wait, do you hear that?" Phipps jerked up from his seat, just as his partner flinched from his seat on the carpet.

Ever so slowly, the Double Charles crept towards door, listening intently. Harsh sounds were ringing outside the mansion. And someone was screaming. At first, both of them could not make out who was screaming. The first voice belonged to a man, and then it switched to a shouting woman. More shouting until they heard a female voice cursing in German.

Grey quickly bolted from the room. "Allie! Where are you?"

Nathaniel Frome was panting heavily on the window sill, looking down.

When Grey reached him, Nathaniel pointed downwards, where Almeison was trying to calm her Friesian horse. The great black stallion was thrashing around and neighing loudly, his large hooves pawing at the muddy ground as the rain began to pour. Almeison was struggling to grab her horse's reins, but to no avail when the horse raced around the courtyard. She shouted a curse in German, pulled on her green skirts, and ran after her horse. It continued for a few minutes until she was able to get hold of the reins. Suddenly, the stallion bolted again, throwing Almeison on his back.

" _Aufhören_!" She clutched the stallion's black mane, screaming as the stallion reared and kicked. " _Aufhören! Ich sage Ihnen zu stoppen! Nein, nein_!" Before she knew it, the horse sprinted forward and exited the manor grounds.

"Allie!" Grey jumped all the way from the second floor to the ground floor, ignoring the pools of mud on his white pants and tailcoat. He dashed to the stables and pulled out their horse-drawn carriage. When he arrived at the gates, Phipps was already waiting for him.

* * *

Almeison buried her face on the stallion's mane, to get the rain out of her face. She was soaked from head to toe, and she dreaded to catch high fever again. Charles would be angry. When her stallion reared and neighed, she lifted her head. The forest which she and Nathaniel treaded that morning came into view. It was mistier than it had been in the morning. The grounds were more slippery and dangerous. She ducked to keep a branch from hitting her face.

" _Aufhören!_ " She pulled tightly on the reins, until her hot-headed stallion finally stopped. When he did, she bent to kiss him near the ear, and the horse neighed softly in return. "You good boy," she cooed at him, caressing his head. "Very good, but naughty! Shall we go back to the manor?"

Then, something dark and long flew quickly at her direction.

It missed her, but her stallion reared in fright, throwing her off the saddle. Instead on falling on her feet, like most cats do, Almeison slipped on the muddy ground and went sliding down into a damp forest pit. She went down face first, her green dress all filthy. Her shout was muffled by the rainwater and mud mixed altogether. Upon reaching the end of the pit, she let out a moan, tasting grass and mud, and immediately sat up.

She looked for signs of wounds and bruises. Fear was rising in her veins whenever she remembered what happened to her younger cousins. She checked her face, arms, and legs for blood. For a few minutes, she sat there, looking desperately. Finally, when her body adjusted on the fall and nothing else hurt in her body, she sighed in relief. _No blood_.

As she finally decided to stand up and climb the forest pit again, her eyes caught something moving not so far from her. Curious, she stood up, winced, and walked towards the thing.

It turned out it was not a thing. It was a little girl, no more than fifteen, scantily dressed, and was dying from the cold.

Almeison fell silent.

 _Oh, mein Gott._

* * *

* _Aufhören! Ich sage Ihnen zu stoppen!_ _Nein, nein!_ – Stop! I am telling you to stop! No, no!"

* _Oh, mein Gott_ – Oh, my God.

 **Author's Notes:** I have had one of the busiest weeks in me life, so forgive me for not updating any sooner. I barely have time to reply to everyone's kind reviews, but I still sincerely thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and those who were eagerly waiting for a chapter. I know this one is not much, but we're getting to the point of the story. Thank you again, and have a wonderful day! :)


	7. The Noble Beast

**Chapter 07**

 _ **The Noble Beast**_

* * *

His heart was beating so fast that he could hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears. It was all he could hear, not Phipps's worried words, not the horses neighing from exhaustion. The rain was pouring heavier by every second that was passing. He did not notice the forest looming in front of them. He did not notice the carriage passing through some thick trees and thorny bushes. All he wanted was her to be safe.

"Faster." Grey could himself finally saying. " _Faster_ , Phipps!"

The white horses quickened their paces, winding through the trees until they heard another series of loud neighs. They found Almeison's black stallion impatiently trotting at the side of the forest pit, nodding its large head to and fro. The Double Charles hastened toward the horse, but found no rider whatsoever. Thus, they began to shout for her.

"Allie!" Grey cupped his hands around his mouth. "Allie, where are you?!"

"Your Highness!" Phipps was calling on the other side. "Please answer us!"

It took a few minutes until a muffled voice answered them from below.

"Right here, Charles!"

Grey hurriedly slid down the muddy cliff, and gracefully landed on his feet. He found his little burden standing under the shade of a tree, all muddy and bruised from her fall. Her light blonde hair turned dark from the rain, and she was embracing herself and shivering from the cold.

"Allie," he whispered, wrapping his arms around her to provide warmth. He felt Almeison giving in to his embrace, clinging on his torso for balance, as she buried her face in his chest. Her teeth chattered from the coldness. "Here," Grey said, offering his white tailcoat to her. He was left with his black vest and white undershirt.

"Your Highness, tell me where it hurts." Phipps pulled out a small first aid kit and began to tend to her bruises.

She winced when Phipps touched her ankle.

"I'm sorry."

"Is there blood?" she asked, fear reflecting in her eyes. "Please, Charles, is there blood?"

Grey studied her terrified face for a while, and then shook his head. "No, no blood. I promise: no blood." He embraced her again.

"Good." Almeison sighed in his embrace. Then, she pointed her finger across the field. The Double Charles followed where it led.

Both gasped at the sight of the dead little girl lying on the middle of the field. Her clothes were discarded, her shoes nowhere to be found. She had bite marks and bruises on her neck and shoulders, with her hair cut from the scalp, making it impossible to guess her hair colour. Her left arm was twisted ever so terribly behind her back, and her legs were pushed open, as though a wild animal tried to push its way _inside_ the girl.

"What in bloody hell?" Grey cringed at the reeking scent.

Phipps pressed an index finger on the girl's throat. "She's dead."

"Just now," Almeison told him, still shivering under Grey's tailcoat. "I found her still breathing. Only seconds before you arrived, she passed away."

"Did she mention a name?" Grey asked, returning back to her.

She shook her head in distress.

"That's okay," he soothed her. "It wasn't your fault." Again, he wrapped his arms around her and leaned his chin on her head, matching his breathing with hers. He could still tell that she was shaking; from the dead girl or the cold, he could not tell. If truth be told, this was his closest chance of intimacy with her.

"Grey," Phipps interrupted; his voice serious. "Remember your place," he whispered.

Flinching, Grey loosened his arms around her and gave an apologetic smile. "I am sorry for the intrusion, Your Ducal Serene Highness."

Almeison blinked, and then turned to Phipps. "I want her taken back to the Frome Manor."

The two Charles glanced doubtfully at each other. "Your Highness?"

"You heard me." She winced and went to climb up the pit, where the horses were waiting above. "Take the girl and bring her back with us. Make sure no one knows about her, but only the three of us. Perhaps I will let Earl Phantomhive and his butler in the secret, but not now. Alright?"

"Are you serious?" Grey scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "We could get accused of killing this girl!"

She gave him a defiant look. "Are you afraid, Earl Grey? Even if we did get caught on this farce, who is to say that we killed her? Can you imagine the Scotland Yard accusing a German duke's daughter of murder of a little girl? Can you imagine someone standing up and declare that Queen Victoria's niece was at fault?" She smiled sweetly as Grey frowned. "I thought so, too, Earl Grey."

"You should stop flaunting your title, Allie," he suggested, as he assisted Phipps in stuffing the dead body inside a sack.

"Title is for our convenience. Additionally, it can be used for manipulation. I think you need your lessons about it."

"I don't need lessons." He helped Phipps on hoisting the sack over his shoulder. "Besides," he continued, "I don't need to manipulate someone. With my superhuman good looks, I can bend everyone at will." He let out a sarcastic laugh.

Almeison opened the door so Phipps could gently drop the sack inside the carriage. "What news from the manor?"

Grey stared at her and said, "We have some company this evening. You might want to use your charms to beguile Lord Frome again."

"I found this." Phipps walked up to her, holding up a long iron pipe with a circular end. "Shall I bring this along?"

She examined the pipe briefly, recounting that she was unhorsed because of it. Someone must have thrown it at her. "No, leave that. If we are doing a favour to Earl Phantomhive, we will let him find that thing by himself. Sooner or later, he will pass by here, given that he visited the Scotland Yard this morning, right?"

"True." Phipps nodded and helped her inside the carriage. She sat on the farthest corner of the small room, away from the reeking corpse of the little girl. "Forgive the foul smell, Your Highness." Then, he turned to his partner. "Stay with her, Grey. Make sure she has everything she needs."

"Of course." Grey shrugged and went in, sitting beside Almeison. He smirked at her. "So, no more hugs from me, huh?"

She rolled her eyes at him, wrapping his tailcoat closer to her. She sneezed. "Ugh, _gesundheit_."

He blinked. "What?"

"It means 'health'."

He shuddered and leaned back against the cushioned seat. "German is such a strange language."

Outside, Charles Phipps was leading the white carriage out of the misty forest. Beside him, Almeison's Friesian horse was following quietly, his hot temper already subsided. When Phipps glanced inside the carriage, he found Grey and Almeison asleep, leaning against each other's shoulders. The scene made him smile.

Suddenly, the rain did not seem too bad after all.

* * *

The horse-drawn carriage carefully halted where the forest bended. The rear wheels were sunk deeply into the mud, while the horses obviously shivered from the cold. _Let's get this over with_. Sebastian swung his legs off the coachman's seat and held up an umbrella, before fetching his young master. Ciel wrapped his dark blue coat around him and stepped out. He cringed as his boots made a squishing sound.

"Be careful on your steps, young master." Sebastian assisted his master, as Ciel brought out the case files and began to read through the details.

"Anne-Sophie Frome, nineteen years old, was raped and murdered on this very place." Ciel flipped to another page, which showed a black-and-white image of a naked woman, her face buried deep into the ground and her arms behind her back. "She was found tied up, and her hair cut from its very roots."

"Are there any evidence left?"

Ciel nodded. "Her clothes were found a few meters away from the scene," he said and looked down on a particular patch. He knelt and pushed two fingers on the muddy ground. Then, he felt something hard. "A ring," he announced, holding up a diamond ring from the ground.

"Just like yours, young master," Sebastian remarked in amusement, as he observed the ring.

"It doesn't look important at all." Ciel growled and stood up, wiping his hands on Sebastian's black trench coat. "Either way, I don't trust Nathaniel Frome about that burn stamp on Anne-Sophie's back."

"A snake biting its own tail symbolises rebirth, a never ending cycle, just like the legendary phoenix." Sebastian had scoured through books last night, and was amazed to learn that humans believed in those kinds of superstitions.

Lightning flashed above, and the rain poured harder.

Ciel shivered under his coat. "Let's get out of here, before I catch a cold. We can continue investigating when this storm is done."

Nodding, Sebastian guided his young master back towards their carriage. With a whip of the reins, the horses bolted and turned around, leaving the crime scene behind them. The carriage was creaking with every step taken by the horses, until they got stuck into something hard. Sebastian bumped his head at the impact, and growled in irritation. He heard his master complain from within the carriage. Still growling, the butler slid off once again from his seat and went to investigate.

He knelt beside the front wheel, pulled off his white glove, and began to pull out whatever was stuck on the wheel. He grunted and took out a long iron pipe, covered with mud and rainwater.

"What is it?" Ciel asked impatiently.

Sebastian pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the mud away. His ruby eyes suddenly widened.

"Young master, you might want to see this."

"What?" He opened the carriage door and poked his head out.

"This." Sebastian showed the pipe for his master to see. He watched closely as Ciel's blue eye widened in realization.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was stuck on our wheel. A piece of evidence, I assure you."

Ciel took the pipe from Sebastian's hand, and examined it further. He could feel the coldness of the iron and its warmth at the same time. He remembered how that iron used to burn at the circular end, how a group of people forced him back on a stone cold table, and how that blazing iron was forced into his skin. He had screamed so terribly that night, tears gushing out from both of his eyes, calling desperately for someone to help him. But his parents did not come, and certainly no God came to save him.

It was the demon who came.

His hands closed in on the circular iron on the end. It reminded him of something else.

 _The mark of the noble beast._

* * *

* _Gesundheit_ – Health (German's way of saying "Bless you")

 **Author's Notes:** Hooray for an early update! *throws confetti* I have escaped the clutches of schoolworks, so here I am with a new chapter! Quite a short one, yes; but we'll get to some tensions soon.

* **Emmanuel Park** \- You know, writers like us have an opponent with the enemy called "School". Thanks! Glad you like the previous chapter, despite the cliche cliffhanger XD

* **Cleah** \- The usually self-centered Grey plays around with a child. Yana, please make this happen.

* **Guest** \- Thank you as well! And I am glad you're enjoying the updates! :)


	8. Hide and Seek

**Chapter 08**

 _ **Hide and Seek**_

* * *

Upon hearing Almeison's arrival, Nathaniel and Rickard immediately proceeded to her chambers. They found Her Ducal Serene Highness being attended thoroughly by the Double Charles. Phipps was continuously patting her blonde hair dry, whilst Grey was offering her a blanket and a warm cup of tea. As Nathaniel hastily stepped forward, Grey stood up and icily glared at him. His equally grey eyes were threatening, as if he was accusing Nathaniel of this incident.

"Charles, it's alright." Almeison peered over Phipps's shoulder as she spoke.

Growling, Grey stepped away and returned to her. He presented her a thick blue evening dress, with a fur-trimmed collar and sleeves.

"Are you alright, Lady Coburg?" Nathaniel asked, as he cautiously approached her.

She smiled reassuringly. "Yes, I am sorry to have worried you."

"Thank goodness." He sighed in relief. "Mary and I have been so worried." He gestured down to his little sister, who was shyly peeking from her brother's legs.

She motioned for Mary to come forward. The brown-haired girl looked brightened as she scampered to the bed, and sat beside Almeison. Her hazel eyes were looking for approval to both Almeison and Grey, with the latter offering a small smile to the child.

"Are you cold, Lady Coburg?" Marianne asked curiously.

"A little. How is your day today, Lady Frome?"

Marianne giggled at that. "I played with Earl Grey this morning."

Grey cringed when he remembered.

"And what game did you play?" Almeison asked in amusement, sparing Grey a teasing look, while he looked away in embarrassment.

"He was making things appear and disappear," little Mary replied excitedly.

It reminded her of the guest they would be having for tonight, though she was informed that none except her and the Double Charles knew who it was. She thought this would be the best time for a distraction.

"Would you like to play with everyone?" she asked.

"Yes, yes!" The child bounced from the bed.

"How about 'Hide and Seek'?"

There was an exasperated groan that only Grey could have done.

"Really? Can we play?" Marianne looked at her brother for approval once more.

Sighing, Nathaniel nodded in agreement. "May I join as well? I would like to experience playing with Her Ducal Serene Highness."

Grey scoffed at that.

"Well, then." Almeison stood up from the bed and took the blue evening dress that Grey offered her earlier. "Give me a few minutes to prepare. I will wait all the participants downstairs." She shooed them away with her hands.

The two Fromes agreed, followed by their elderly butler Rickard, while Phipps gathered his things and left, followed by Grey.

Once they were gone, Almeison began to shuffle her way into the dress and fixed the furry collar and sleeves. She felt warm all of a sudden. Then, sitting in front of her desk, she fixed her light blonde hair into a loose Bohemian side braid, just as how her stepmother taught her. She showered herself with perfume, in case Lord Frome got too close. As she was about to leave her chambers, she remembered the certain corpse lying under her desk. Using her foot, she pushed the reeking sack further inside and covered it with a chair.

Back in the drawing room, everyone participating in her little game was present. Charles Grey and Charles Phipps were whispering to each other; Nathaniel was tickling his little sister, while Rickard looked on. As she entered, she noticed the newly-arrived Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis.

"Ah, just in time!" Almeison clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Welcome back, Earl Phantomhive. Did you get everything you need?"

Her voice seemed to snap Ciel from his reverie. "Yes, and I am quite satisfied with what I found, Lady Coburg."

Nathaniel looked up, as if expecting the Watchdog to say more, but Ciel remained quiet. His smiling face slowly turned into a frowning one, his face darkening with suspicion. What was it that Earl Phantomhive was hiding from him? Out of everyone in the room, he had the right to learn what happened to Anne.

"Well, if you have nothing to do, won't you join our game?" Nathaniel offered.

"What game?" Suddenly, Ciel was interested. He leaned in and placed his elbows on his knees, smirking at the thought of playing after a gruesome revelation.

"Hide and Seek," Almeison replied, smiling. "One of us will hide, and others will have to go and look for him all around the mansion. Questions?"

Grey held up his hand. "I think it will be more efficient if Her Ducal Serene Highness hides and the men will look for you. Right?"

Phipps nodded in agreement. "I concur."

"I have no qualms with that." Ciel smirked and stood up. "If I win, what will I get out of it?"

The Double Charles glanced doubtfully at each other.

Almeison saved them just in time. "If you win, Earl Phantomhive, you are allowed to ask me any questions that you want."

"Any questions?"

She laughed. "Yes, everything and anything you want, Earl."

Ciel flashed her a small smirk. He already had his question. _What are you truly hiding?_

He admitted that Almeison was not to be trusted in any way, despite how charming and agreeable she might seem. He did not consider himself losing, despite competing against Grey and Phipps. He had once defeated the Double Charles in an Easter Egg Hunt; what would make them think that Ciel would lose in a childish game such as hide and seek? And with Sebastian at his side, he would not lose.

"Ready?" Her Ducal Serene Highness clapped her hands again. "Mister Rickard will turn off the lights for ten seconds. When the lights return, the seeking begins."

"Ready when you are, Earl Grey." Ciel smirked.

Grey scoffed. "I'll win this time, Earl Phantomhive."

Rickard went towards the light switch on the corner of the drawing room. He eyed his master and young mistress, and warily looked at Ciel and Sebastian's team, and then to Grey and Phipps's. "On three, I will turn off the lights," he announced, as the participants went to their stances.

"One, two... three!"

Darkness engulfed the whole drawing room.

Sebastian smiled innocently as he watched Almeison sprint off into the opposite direction. His ruby eyes briefly flashed bright magenta, and then returned to its normal red hue. He waited patiently for ten seconds. When the lights returned, he grabbed his young master and pulled him where he saw Almeison went.

"I won't let you win!" Grey wheeled towards them and drew out his golden-caged rapier, aiming at Sebastian.

The black-haired butler backflipped and landed lightly on his feet. "Her Highness made it explicit this is a game, not a competition."

"Enough!" Ciel shouted, watching as Phipps was running away from the scene. "After him, Sebastian!"

"Over my dead body!" Grey swung his sword once more, cutting off few strands of Sebastian's left fringe. He jumped back when Sebastian motioned to grab him by the neck. Grinning, Grey pounced towards them again, his left hand efficiently swinging his sword. Sebastian caught the white blade with his right hand, which eventually bled when Grey thrust his sword forward. The blade caught Sebastian's cheek. In defence, Sebastian curled his left hand into a fist and made an attempt to attack the young earl again.

Grey smiled and backed off once more. He twirled his rapier upside down, so the blade stood on top of his palm. "Still can't attack nobles pretty well, huh," he said in amusement, balancing the blade in one hand.

"Her Majesty would surely be disappointed, if her favourite butler gets injured," Ciel answered haughtily.

"Favourite?" Grey twirled his blade again and caught the hilt with his left hand. "Oh, I'm not Her Majesty's favourite. That's John, actually." He sprinted once more and aimed at Sebastian. "I will kill you this time!"

His blade was redirected when a bolt hit it.

Growling, Grey turned around and saw Nathaniel with his wooden crossbow, aiming at him.

"No fighting." Nathaniel was grinning, as he felt the surge of adrenaline rush in his veins. He revelled at the thought of going against Earl Grey, who saw himself as the best of them. Well, in this game, Nathaniel wanted to make sure the silver-haired earl would not be able to get cocky again.

"Speak for yourself." As Grey went to aim at Sebastian again, the butler and his master were already sprinting away from him. He made an attempt to run after them, but Nathaniel loosed another bolt and almost hit Grey on the shoulder.

"Stop taking the game so seriously, Earl Grey. It's time to look for Lady Coburg." He breathed heavily, brown eyes staring down at the frowning earl.

Remembering who he was _really_ after, Grey sheathed his rapier and ran past Nathaniel and his sister. _Killing him can wait_ , he reprimanded himself. He turned sharply around the corner and there was no sign of Phipps anywhere. He bolted upstairs, scoured through the library and entertainment room. Nothing. Now frustrated, Grey proceeded to upturn the tables and beds, opened the closets, and looked behind the paintings for secret passageways. Still nothing.

"Damn this mansion for being so enormous," he complained to himself.

* * *

The flickering of a torch brought a smile upon her face. Moving the boulder was not so hard when it was already prepared for her. What she only needed was for Phipps to close it once more. She had to clutch her dress to keep it from getting soaked on the damp cave floor. Her hand was leaning on the walls, guiding her just where the tunnel bended. For a few minutes, all she could hear was the creepy dripping of water somewhere in the catacombs. At the end of the last corner, the torch continuously burned.

"I thought you've forgotten about me," a monotonous voice said.

She smiled and quickly went beside him. "Forget you? Oh, no, John. Of all people, I would surely not forget about you."

John Brown held the torch higher, illuminating his handsome face. "I heard of your exploitation this rainy morning, Your Highness. Are you alright?"

Almeison intertwined her arm with his and led him further inside the catacombs. "Yes, I am alright now. How is the Queen?"

"Her Majesty the Queen fares well. She sends her warmest regards to you and the two Charles." He looked straight ahead, with his large sunglasses still firm. "She reminds you to uncover the secrets of the Frome Family; leave the rape case to Earl Phantomhive. She also wants to know how your affairs with Earl Phantomhive are going."

"Smoothly, I am guessing." She shrugged. "Earl Phantomhive is harder to communicate with; Nathaniel, though, is the easiest." She gave him a curious look. "Aren't you going to remove your sunglasses? It is already dark down here."

His fingers touched the sunglasses briefly. "I wear this all the time," he replied nonchalantly. "If you are bothered by it, I can take it off."

"Oh, no. It is quite alright." Almeison laughed softly. "Aren't you at least bothered by the darkness?"

"No, Your Highness."

"Are you afraid of the dark, John?" She halted, forcing him to halt with her as well. She looked up to him, as she was a few inches shorter.

There was silence, until he answered, "No, Your Highness. Darkness is darkness. What can darkness do to you, I wonder?"

"Well, I have always been afraid on what kinds of creatures are lurking in the darkness." She pointed at the black abyss ahead of them. "If something leaps out from there, what would you do?"

John looked down to her. "I will protect you with all the power I possess."

"Is that an honest answer?"

"I believe so, Your Highness."

Almeison smiled sadly. "I like it when people are being honest. Do you, John?"

"Sometimes, Your Highness."

The pair continued further inside the catacombs. The dripping went louder as they went closer to the shrine where Anne-Sophie Frome was kept. The cave walls suddenly turned into the walls that resembled a room. The slippery and unsteady floor suddenly became smooth and polished. A candelabrum was hanging on the wall, and John lighted it with his torch. He followed Almeison to the room where the corpse was kept.

As John lifted the torch higher, rats squeaked and shied away from the light.

"Here we are." Almeison gestured at the green casket lying in the middle of the room. It looked untouched since yesterday. John began to investigate the casket and its lid, while she rummaged through the old pictures of Anne-Sophie.

In contrast of all the negative comments made by Charles Grey, Anne-Sophie looked like a very approachable young woman, with light brown hair and smiling hazel eyes. On the first picture, she was posing with her little sister, Marianne, wearing flower crowns. On the next, she was with her older brother, sitting on the couch with him. Here both siblings were younger, and Nathaniel's arm was around Anne-Sophie's shoulders, like any protective brother would do. There were many other pictures that followed, including Marianne's birth five years ago, where she was carried by Anne.

"Your Highness?" John turned to her.

She drew her eyes away from the photos and approached him. "Yes?"

"Shall we start the investigation proper?"

"Yes. Please open the casket, John." She took the torch from him as he began to move the heavy lid of the casket.

Creaking loudly, the lid opened and revealed the cold corpse of Anne-Sophie Frome. Her fair skin was mottled with days of being kept in the catacombs. The bruises on her neck and shoulders looked fresh. Ignoring them, Almeison allowed John to turn the corpse around the casket. John grunted softly as he pushed Anne-Sophie deeper into the cushioned casket. He gently removed the pink dress the corpse was wearing, to reveal the upper body.

Almeison did not turn away, as John exposed the naked body.

"What are we looking for, Your Highness?"

"A brand." She lighted the torch closer to the corpse. "Something that burned somewhere on her body."

John nodded and began to search. His gloved hands carefully tread across the naked skin. But he did not seem to mind. He neither flinched nor cringed when he touched Anne-Sophie's corpse. He did not complain. If Grey had done it in his place, he would have whined throughout the whole ordeal.

"Here." John turned the corpse more in its casket and slid down the dress. He showed her a brand on Anne-Sophie's back, a serpent biting its own tail. Both of them could not place what it was, but at least Almeison knew it was exactly what they needed.

"Seems Lord Frome has been honest," she mused. "Leave that corpse be. We're done here."

As she was about to turn her heels, John Brown suddenly grabbed her from behind and pressed his hand on her mouth. He pulled her under the table where the green casket was lying, and pressed her head against his chest. Surprised and confused, Almeison looked up to him incredulously. John only shook his head and pressed his index finger against his lips.

Footsteps arrived in the room, followed by an irritated growl from a familiar person.

"Earl Grey can be such a pain," Ciel complained, looking around the place.

Sebastian held the candelabrum above his head. "I doubt Her Highness will hide all the way here."

"Are you sure?" Ciel snapped at his butler. "Earl Grey warned us how unpredictable Lady Coburg can be. What makes you think she's not here?"

"There are other places where she could be," Sebastian answered quietly. "Given that she is hiding something in her chambers."

"What?"

There was a pause.

"Something's happening upstairs." Sebastian fell silent for a moment, as if calculating what was happening within the mansion. In the next few seconds, there was a loud explosion coming from the kitchens. "I bet it was the stove," he remarked.

Ciel rolled his eyes and stomped out of the room. "Come on. Earl Grey will probably beat us into finding Lady Coburg. She could be giving him instructions actually." His footsteps dissipated with Sebastian's, until they were completely gone.

Then, John and Almeison stirred underneath the table.

"Close call," she said, smiling at him. "How did you do that?"

He nodded. "Lots of training. And Phipps made the stove explode, by the way." He helped her back onto her feet and dusted off her blue evening dress. "I made sure Grey would follow us here afterwards."

"Oh, so we will wait for him." She returned to the pictures and started rummaging through. There was another photo of Nathaniel and Anne-Sophie, dancing and smiling at each other, oblivious of the camera. There was one with Anne in her brother's clothes, and Nathaniel in the white dress of his sister. It made Almeison laugh. _So they switched clothes, didn't they?_

Unexpectedly, there was a photo where Anne was playing the piano, and someone was standing beside the pianoforte. She narrowed her eyes, as the man cannot be Nathaniel, given his fair hair and slender build. Nathaniel Frome was taller and quite muscular. Grabbing the ignited candelabrum, she was given a better view of the man.

Charles Grey.

"There you are~!" Grey chirped as he entered the room.

Almeison hurriedly dropped the photo and forced an ungainly smile. "Yes, here we are, Charles. How did it go?"

He shrugged as he waved a hand at John. "So-so, I guess. Earl Phantomhive is so competitive. How's your investigation? It already reeks in here." He covered his nose and fanned his hand in front of his face. "Let's get out of here and grab some dinner. I'm starving~!"

When he turned around, Almeison attached herself to John once more and clung to his arm, which he did not mind at all. She gave him a mischievous look and whispered, "Stupid says what."

Grey snapped back at her. "What?"

"Oh, nothing."

As Grey scoffed and walked away, Almeison and John snickered.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Happy Valentine's Day everyone! As celebration, here's an update and a new one-shot which features Edward Midford. It's called _**Bizarre Hour.**_ If anyone's interested about our favourite big brother, please give it a look!

* **Emmanuel Park** \- Ack! Tests are the ultimate enemies! I hope you did well on your exams. More intimacy coming soon!

* **Rainmaker** \- Thank you! I'm glad you appreciate the diversion from Allie's usual portrayal. All people have fear. It all depends on what it is and how they handle them.

* **Scarlet Wolf** \- More Grey embracing Allie coming up! XD


	9. Your Turn, She Said

**Chapter 09**

 _ **Your Turn, She Said**_

* * *

"Do you have everything you need, Your Serene Highness?"

Charles Phipps carefully adjusted the basket hanging on both of his arms, while he followed the wandering royal all around the marketplace. It had been Almeison's idea to do shopping, much to her delight and to Phipps's approval. He thought the lady needed some fresh air, especially after the incidents that happened in the last few days. After the stove exploded in the kitchen, which drew the attention of Ciel and Sebastian, John Brown took his leave and returned to London.

"Not everything." Almeison gently tugged at his gloved hand and drew him inside another store.

The bell chimed as the two nobles entered, and the old man at the counter quickly composed himself. His wife stopped sweeping the floor upon their arrival.

"Good morning. What can I help you with?"

She glanced at Phipps, and then cheerfully answered, "Chocolate cake mix, please."

The old man blinked and went to fetch the product. As he rummaged through the webbed cupboards, he glanced every once in a while at his visitors. At length, he asked, "Not from around here, are you?"

"We come from London," Almeison replied, and murmured her thanks when the old man handed her the regular-sized pack. She took few golden coins from her purse and placed the pack inside Phipps's basket. Thanking the old man once again, she pulled Phipps and exited the store.

After what seemed to be forever, Phipps could already see that their wanderings would be ended soon.

Almeison opened the carriage door for him, as he gently placed the baskets within. There were three heavy baskets in all, containing everything that Her Ladyship thought would be sufficient for her little game. She settled herself inside the carriage, gathering her green skirts around her feet, as Phipps closed the door.

"Do you think he will like it, Charles?" she asked before Phipps could climb on the coachman's seat.

He turned back to her and nodded quietly. "I am sure he will be surprised, Your Highness."

"But will he _like_ it?"

"Definitely." With that, he took the reins and snapped at the two white horses that pulled their carriage.

Two days after the game, there had been no continuation of the case. Nathaniel Frome would disappear every once in a while, which his butler Rickard excused as his hobby to hunt in the morning and dusk. Ciel Phantomhive gave hints that he knew of the little corpse that Almeison was keeping in her chambers, but made no attempt to question her. Charles Grey, as he usually did, stayed within the manor, devouring each pastry he could get his hands on.

Upon arriving at the Frome Manor, Almeison and Phipps proceeded into the kitchens, where the lone steward and maid were waiting.

"Good morning, Your Serene Highness."

The maid had black hair curling in lazy ringlets, pulled back into a high ponytail and went over her left shoulder. Her green eyes followed each step Almeison and Phipps were making, while she herself stood beside the steward. Now, the steward was tall and lean, almost in height with Charles Grey, with auburn hair and a set of deep blue eyes. He wore brown vest over his long-sleeved white shirt. He could see Almeison glancing at him, as though she was a cat curious at a dog.

"Could you prepare some cake for us?" Almeison smiled at the maid, gesturing her to inspect the ingredients they bought.

Obligingly, the maid stepped forward and examined the ingredients. There were too much flour, chocolate mix, and others. She pursed her lips awkwardly, unsure on how to answer. "Well... everything will do, Your Serene Highness."

"Coburg, please call me Coburg," Almeison insisted and pulled on Phipps's hand again, walking towards the exit of the kitchen. "I will come back to see the progress before luncheon." She waved her gloved hand at the maid, and directed a charming smile at the steward.

Once they had left the sight of the two Frome servants, she let go of Phipps's hand and smiled smugly at him.

Phipps asked, "Did you see that, my Lady?"

She tilted her head to the side. "See what?"

"The steward is suspicious." He glanced over his shoulder, as though fearing one of he servants were eavesdropping. "When we entered the kitchen, he slowly stepped backward to guard that boulder blocking the catacombs. Lord Frome must have ordered them to watch over it."

"I see now." She nodded thoughtfully. "His butler Rickard will not be able to supervise the kitchens all the time, considering that there are too many guests to be entertained with such small amount of servants. Good thing we left Charles behind, did we not?"

Earlier that morning, Charles Grey had whined and pouted when he found out that he was not allowed to come with them. He had thought of every little excuse that he could come up, but Almeison had insisted that Phipps should accompany her instead. With Grey's energetic disposition and constant hunger, Nathaniel Frome and the old butler would be forced to attend to Grey's needs. And to add Earl Phantomhive in the picture...

"Everybody is suspicious to everyone," Almeison continued. "Who are you most suspicious in the manor, Phipps?"

He halted for a while. "Lord Frome," he whispered. "There are many things he hides and stories he bends."

"What about Earl Phantomhive?"

Phipps raised an eyebrow. "Earl Phantomhive works on his own. He is to discover the story behind the rape and murder of Lady Frome, while we are to discover the truth behind the Frome Family."

"Yes, yes," she answered. "But those two are not so far behind from each other. Perhaps we should give the corpse over to the Scotland Yard as well." Her chambers had been reeking for quite a while now.

Suddenly, Phipps remembered something.

"What is the cake for?"

She blinked at him, and said, "Oh, for Charles. He has been sulking since yesterday, remember?"

* * *

"I'll have this cake now~!"

Charles Grey happily dug into his plate of Toffee Poke cake he was presented with. His black gloves were tossed aside, his white sleeves pulled up to his elbows, as brown crumbs circled his mouth. He eagerly finished one plate after the other, munching like a happy little child, and then reached out to relieve himself with a nice mint tea. A few moments later, he sighed in contentment and rubbed his full belly.

"Ah~! I am so full~"

His partner nodded in agreement. "Good, feeling better as far as I can see."

Almeison laughed softly, sitting beside Grey. "Did you like it?"

"Damn, right, I did." Grey rubbed again at his belly. "Did you make it?"

She shook her head, still smiling. "No, but I know someone who did."

Grey narrowed his eyes, not liking how her smile turned mischievous. "You want me to do something for you, right?" When she only nodded, he groaned and slapped his forehead. "I thought so!"

"It is not that hard, Charles." Her voice was smooth as silk as she spoke, clearly persuading him. She ran her gloved hand on his right arm, her fingers drawing small circles. "I only want you to do something _easy_ for me."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Hm?"

She leaned so that her lips almost touched his cheek. She could feel Grey shuddering at their close proximity, and it made her smile. "Ilona," she whispered, and Grey thought it was some German word he could not understand

"What?" He snapped.

She rolled her eyes. "Ilona, the maid. I have seen how she looks at you; her eyes linger on your face, then continue down to your whole frame."

"Oh," was all Grey murmured.

"What do you think it means, Charles?"

He shrugged. "She finds me handsome?"

"Exactly," she agreed, nodding. "And I would have none of it, Charles. I would not have her simpering at you for the whole day." Her eyes darkened with contempt. "If I catch her looking at you again, I'll slap her face."

"Are you telling me you're jealous?" Grey smirked.

"No, I am telling you that I would not have that maid staring at you while we're working here. If you and her want to be some good use, with all the staring and hidden smiles, then you might as well go to her and ask her questions of which answers that I want to hear."

"What exactly do you want to hear, my Lady?" Phipps chimed in.

She turned to him and favoured him with a soft smile. "Everything that Lord Frome leaves out, that's for sure. Now, Charles, if you catch the maid looking at your partner, would you send her my message that I would scratch her eyes out?"

Phipps laughed. "You have my word on that, Your Highness."

"I cannot bloody believe that you're getting worked up on a lowborn maid," Grey grumbled.

She whipped back towards him, suddenly angry. "Would you rather have that maid get all the attention?"

"You're worried about the spotlight running from you?" Grey huffed. "You're pathetic, Allie."

"And you're no help at all. If you want, you would go to her this afternoon and use all means to extract information." Her temper subsided, as she leaned in again and kissed him on the cheek. "It's your turn to shine, Charles."

Grey wiped his cheek where her lips had been, looking disgusted. "Yeah, fine, whatever. If we didn't happen to be here for investigation, I would have broken your neck already."

Phipps looked aghast.

Almeison laughed, standing up from the couch. "Just do it, Charles."

"And where do you think you're going?" He narrowed his eyes when she moved to leave the dreary dining hall.

"To Nathaniel Frome, where else?"

At once, Grey was on his feet, furious. "Oh, is that so? I get the maid and do God-knows-what, while you are with Lord Frome alone? To have some... some _bonding_ time?!"

She shrugged dismissively. "I see no problem in that," she answered and left.

Growling, Grey slammed the plate on the floor. Shards flew into many broken pieces. The teapot was tossed over to Phipps, who took one step back and evaded the attack. The mint tea splashed all over the polished marble floor. The fragrance of the tea had overridden Phipps's scent. Before Grey could take out his rapier, he spoke up.

"Enough," Phipps calmly demanded. "Clean up this mess and head over to the kitchen. I will handle the steward."

Grey whirled angrily towards him. "Do you think I am low enough to do what she wants?"

"I do not see her complaining as much as you do, Grey. In my honest opinion, dealing with Lord Frome is harder than a servant." He pushed past his partner and decided to pick the shards instead. He wiped the floor with a table napkin afterwards and balanced the tray on one arm.

"If I hear that Frome is touching Allie in the _wrong_ places, I will cut him." Grey's fingers ghosted over where Almeison kissed him only a few moments ago. He was already regretting that he wiped his hands over his cheek.

Phipps smiled. "Be my guest."

* * *

His mood still did not lighten up as he walked towards the kitchen. Walking with his hands behind his head, he whistled a little cheery tune to keep himself busy. When he entered, he found the household maid all alone, much to his fortune. The maid was running here and there, chopping onions and mixing the sauce, checking the pans, and boiling water for tea.

"Good evening," Grey greeted casually, waving his hand.

The maid jumped up in surprise, almost dropping a platter. "Oh, Earl Grey," she murmured and bowed politely.

"What's for dinner?" He crossed the room and peered on a pot.

"Um, a Sunday roast, Yorkshire pudding and such, my lord."

"Right." Grey pulled off his black glove and stirred the steaming liquid on the pot. A few seconds later, he pressed the ladle to his lips and hummed appreciatively. "Not half bad for a country maid," he commented, smirking at her. He beamed triumphantly when he saw the dark-haired maid blush. "Where is your master?"

"Lord Frome has gone with Her Serene Highness for a little walk outdoors."

He glowered. "Walk outside, huh?" Then, he wore his black glove again and strode towards her, still smirking. Perhaps this was the best time to interview the maid, especially when the steward was not around. Phipps had warned him of the suspicious steward earlier. "Ilona, I believe?"

"Y-Yes, my lord," Ilona muttered, as Grey lifted her chin with an index finger. Her green eyes gazed into his grey ones. There were sudden butterflies in her stomach, her heart thumping in her chest, her knees weakening at each passing second. Yet she stood there gaping, almost breathless with excitement, as the young man leaned to whisper in her ear.

"I think you are the most perfect person to do me a favour right now, my lady."

Her face was still blushing. "I-I am?"

"You are," he confirmed, softly combing his fingers through her ebony tresses. He twirled a lock on his finger and lightly kissed it, while his eyes never avoided hers. For a moment there, he thought she might faint on the spot. It took all his willpower from bursting out in laughter.

"What shall I do for you, my lord? I still have to prepare dinner." She gestured towards the steaming pot and the other ingredients that needed to be chopped.

"Never mind those." Grey growled. His hand rested on the small of her back, making her flinch. "You seem young. How long have you been serving Lord Frome anyway?"

Ilona blinked at the sudden change of his voice. "A few years, three, my lord."

"Oh, I see. The steward, what is his name?"

"Declan Spencer, m-my lord."

"Fancy name." Grey chuckled a little. "And please, call me Charles."

"Charles," Ilona repeated, as though she was memorizing a name.

"Now then, my little dove, how about we play a game?" His eyes twinkled with mischief, and he was so damn relieved that Phipps was not around to witness such an indecent act with such a lowborn woman, a commoner, which made things worse. But if he wanted to do Her Serene Highness a favour, he had to do this.

The maid inclined her head to the side, curious. "What game?"

Grey smiled. "Come here and let me show you."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** I'll make this short because I have papers to finish, yet here I am with a new chapter! I hope everyone enjoyed this one. Thank you for the reviews last chapter: Emmanuel Park, Cleah, and Akilina. You guys are amazing! As for the next one, Grey needs to keep watch on a brewing storm that is Almeison. XD

I also have a new one-shot with Edward Midford, entitled _**Bizarre Hour**_. Since I cannot update that any longer, I sincerely thank everyone who has shown support and reviewed. Thank you, thank you~!


	10. Brewing Storm

**Chapter 10**

 _ **Brewing Storm**_

* * *

When the dusk finally came, Nathaniel and Almeison cut their outdoor walk short. They discussed nothing but personal interests, some political issues in both England and Germany, and a little about family. It was revealed that Anne-Sophie Frome's engagement to Charles Grey was mainly an allegiance, since the Fromes had financial problems, and marrying into the Grey Family was all the previous Lord Frome could think of as a solution. Almeison thought it was a good piece of information, and went on to narrate how she was never betrothed to anyone, despite being royalty. She left the part where her father could be humiliated and made fun of, as Nathaniel did not need to hear that.

Their pair crossed the wooden fences that separated the Frome property to the forest up ahead, where Anne-Sophie's corpse was recovered, and the corpse of the little girl still hidden in Almeison's chambers. Both entered through the servant's entrance, with Almeison's arm intertwined with Nathaniel's, and she leaning against the frame of his body.

When Lord Frome opened the kitchen door, the sight was unceremonious.

Charles Grey's hand was up inside Ilona's skirt. The maid leapt from his lap, her green eyes widening in shock and in tears. The young nobleman fixed his gloves and smoothed his white tailcoat, trying to look nonchalant, but failed miserably as Her Serene Highness went in like a whirlwind and glared at the poor maid.

"Get out, you slut," Almeison snarled and watched as Ilona bowed and exited the room.

As quickly as he entered, Nathaniel rushed in to hold her back. "Come, Lady Coburg."

She furiously slapped his arm away, hissing, and rounded towards the astounded Earl Grey. "What were you doing with that slut on your lap?!"

"It was nothing," Grey told her calmly. His hands were about to hold her shoulders, an attempt to soothe her, but she backed away.

"Nothing? Nothing!" She curled her fists, as her body shook with anger. Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away and continued glaring. "Nothing, you say! Fancy that! A lowborn maid squirming and giggling on your lap, Charles! I saw what she was doing; with her face so close to yours! We all _knew_ what she was doing! Yet you say _nothing_!"

Grey gave her an apologetic look. He glanced sideways and saw Phipps arriving, looking all confused. He turned back to his lady, who was breathless in her anger.

"My love," he said gently and recklessly, not caring if people heard him. "I am sorry."

"Sorry?" She spat as tears fell from her flushed cheeks. It made Grey uncomfortable and stepped towards her, opening his arms for her. But she shook her head. "No, no; I am not a little girl who needs her tears to be kissed. No, get away from me!"

His voice remained low and soft, as he stepped forward again. "Allie, please..."

She stepped back and rasped, "Get away from me! I can smell the whore on you! You disgust me!"

The moment Grey's arms were around her, she rounded on him and slapped his cheek, the stinging sound echoing in the kitchen. Phipps was aghast and Nathaniel stood with his mouth open. Ciel Phantomhive and his butler arrived just in time to see Her Serene Highness bolting out of the room, wiping her tears.

Once everything was quiet, Phipps approached his partner.

"What happened?"

"I did her a favour." Grey winced when he touched his aching cheek. "You know what kind of favour. I should talk to her." He pushed Phipps aside and ran upstairs.

With a hand still caressing his cheek, he burst into the bedchambers of Almeison, and did not find her there. It was empty, with its windows closed and the bed still in order. He caught glimpse of the accursed little sack lying underneath the desk; the corpse of the girl found in the forest two days ago. Growling, he was about to leave when he heard noises coming from _his_ room on the other side of the hallway. He raced towards it, opened the door, and found her.

Almeison was standing in front of the full-body mirror, wiping her tears with a handkerchief. She looked through the mirror as Grey entered and shut the door behind him.

"Allie—"

"Did they buy it?" She immediately cut him off.

Unable to catch her meaning, his brows furrowed. "What?"

She briefly looked behind her to meet his inquiring look, and then returned to her reflection on the mirror. "Did everyone know about what happened? If they did, then that is good, isn't it?"

"Good? What are you talking about?" Grey noted how her voice sounded casual and ordinary, as though nothing transpired in the kitchens.

Instead of answering, Almeison crossed the chambers and stopped in front of him. She brought her fingers to the cheek where she had slapped him earlier. "Oh, does it hurt much? I am so sorry," she said, her voice all apologetic and gentle. Charles still did not understand. When she sensed his confusion, she laughed a little. "It was a believable performance, wouldn't you agree?"

Finally, it dawned into him.

"It was nothing but an act?" he asked incredulously.

"Why, yes." She nodded. "I asked you to acquire information from the maid by any means necessary. I never thought you would resort to sexual seduction. But hey, it was worth as shot, was it not?"

Grey shook his head and glared. "It was an _act_?"

Almeison rolled her eyes. "Yes, now pay attention."

"No!" He thundered towards her, seething. "Why the hell did you do that?! Do you have any freaking idea how hurtful that slap was?" He pointed angrily at his aching cheek.

"Well, I already apologized," she answered. "I only did that act to assert my power back. If that maid, Ilona, has the slightest misinterpretation that she is being favoured by a rich nobleman, she will start to imagine things. She will think she is the favourite. Now, I cannot let that happen. A little scare might do the trick." She smiled triumphantly at him.

Her smile faded when Grey suddenly pressed her against the wall and pinned her hands on either side of her head.

"You and your stupid tricks!" He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on her wrists. He leaned closer, scowling. "You think you're so smart, hm? You like playing tricks and getting away with them, and then watch as we try to play with you!"

"You did not think it was real, did you?" She blinked. "I thought you already got the message, so I went in and thundered towards you. The slap was a little out of place, but it should not have hurt that much."

"Never mind the slap!"

"Then I cannot see what the problem here is!"

Grey paused for a while to regain his composure and steadied his breathing.

After a moment of silence, she realized something. "You did not think I was genuinely jealous, did you?"

"Shut up." He removed his hands and backed away.

"That was really unprofessional, Charles. You actually thought I was jealous. I'll be damned if that happened." She gave a little haughty laugh.

"I said, shut up, Almeison! Do you want me to draw the sword?"

She immediately held her hands in defence, fear rushing up in her veins. "You know the rules: no pointy things against me. Her Majesty ought to scold you for threatening me."

"I don't care," Grey snapped at her. "I don't care about you or what you want to say! Get out of here. This is my room. How dare you come here uninvited?"

"There is a dead girl in my room. I already endured sleeping there for two nights, Charles. I would not tolerate it any longer. If you want to sleep there, then please, do so. I am claiming this room as mine."

"You cannot do that!" He rounded towards her, furious once again. "Who do you think you are?"

"Almeison of Coburg, the new Master of the Horse. And to think, in a few weeks, I would lead the Golden Jubilee parade of Her Majesty. _Phantasie dass_!" She clapped her hands delightfully.

Once the investigation was over, she would have to travel back to London and prepare for the celebration. It excited her to think about supervising the management of the royal carriage, of all the horses she was supposed to watch. She would wear red and black, with golden badges on her coat, and a black feathered-hat upon her head. She would have a sword slung around her hips, but Queen Victoria promised that it was nothing but a toy, to ensure her safety.

Charles Grey crossed his arms above his chest, smirking deviously. "Almeison of Coburg, the new Master of the Horse, indeed. I wonder how many people know you are born out of wedlock."

Almeison stopped her fantasies. She whirled towards him, frowning. "What did you say?"

"Oh, I don't know." He feigned innocence and played with the longer patch of his silver-white hair. "It seems odd to me that Her Majesty would allow a lowborn into the court, especially you. The Duke of Coburg must have been very ashamed of you, that he sent you away from home."

"You, Earl Grey, do not know what you are saying." She stood in front of him, looking up into his indifferent eyes. They showed no emotions, as opposed to the ferocity they showed only a few moments ago.

"I do, of course." He chuckled. "Her Majesty told us about you, before you came to court."

"Perhaps, but you do not know anything about my life in Germany." She blinked back the tears once more, and this time, they were _real_ tears, triggered by emotions she thought she had left behind when she left her home, Rosenau Palace. She loved that place, a small palace in the countryside, Prince Albert's childhood home.

"Does it matter?" Grey shrugged. "You are a bastard, and bastards do not get many credits unlike the full-fledged children."

"Full-fledged?" Her voice was thick with emotions. "Is that what you are, a full-fledged son of one of the most noble families in the country? And I—Her Serene Highness, Almeison von Coburg, with all the rest of all the damned pretentious titles—am nothing but a half-breed. Oh, yes, very much so, Earl Grey. I am so overwhelmed with your honesty," she spat sarcastically. "Perhaps I should curtsy to you now, since you are so high and mighty? Should I kneel and kiss your shoes, and call you my lord?"

The sudden outburst did not sway him. Instead, he smirked and said, "I cannot see why not."

"Very well, then." Almeison drew herself away from him and gave a little curtsy. "You must be happy now. If you'll excuse me, Lord Charles Henry Grey, I would have to leave and dress for dinner. There is Lord Frome waiting for me, I believe. He has more respect for me than my own _friend_ has."

With a little disgusted glance at him, she opened the door and left him behind.

* * *

Everyone was deadly silent when they entered the dining hall. Nathaniel and his little sister, Marianne, arrived hand-in-hand, followed by the elderly Frome butler, Rickard. Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian came in next, after spending an hour thinking about their next move, now that their group seemed divided after the argument between Earl Grey and Lady Coburg in the kitchens. Charles Grey went in alone, quiet as a shadow, and seated himself next to Ciel. Then came the steward, Declan Spencer, with some of the food. Ilona was two paces behind him, avoiding everyone's eyes.

The time seemed to have stopped when Her Serene Highness and Charles Phipps entered together. Almeison was wearing plum silk evening dress with black embroidered swirls around the collar and sleeves. A velvet ribbon was tied around her waist, and a matching, albeit thinner, velvet choker around her neck. Her golden hair was in a curly ponytail, adorned with another ribbon.

She smiled demurely to Lord Frome. "I brought a present all the way from Germany, a little chair, if you are wondering."

"I am honoured, Your Highness," Nathaniel breathed against her gloved hand and kissed it.

Almeison glanced vindictively at Ilona, who was standing in the corner of the room.

"It is for your maid, Lord Frome, _to sit on_. It occurred to me that she has no seat of her own, so she must borrow mine. It might also save her from a storm that would brew the next time. Or perhaps it might save her less time to squirm in someone else's lap."

Ilona flushed red in embarrassment, but kept her head low. Sebastian turned away to hide his snicker.

"Of course." Nathaniel made a mental note not to cross her. He led her towards the table. "To dinner, Your Serene Highness."

With grace, Almeison accepted his hand and sat beside him on the dinner table. Food was served and wine was poured into their goblets. The silence was broken when Ciel, the clever young earl, distracted Lord Frome and asked him about hunting. Delighted with the topic, the brown-haired young man began to explain this and that to the young earl, which eased the tension in the dining hall.

Grey glanced at Almeison's modest demeanor, glowered, and leaned against his partner. "What game is she playing this time?"

"Nothing, I should like to think," Phipps answered in a hushed voice, and then took a small sip from his wine. He watched as Lady Coburg commented on something Lord Frome said, which made him laugh. "It appears she only wants some peace after what happened earlier," he added.

"Make amends?" Grey snorted. "Don't make me laugh. Look at her; she's clearly enjoying this. For all I know, she is plotting something."

"But we _are_ always plotting," Phipps said, with a hint of amusement. "Why do you think Her Serene Highness is always with him, leaning against him, and laughing with him? Of course, she has something up in her sleeves. Why do you think Earl Phantomhive disappears in one second, and then appears in the next? Why do you think he always asks the oddest questions? Of course, he plans to end this investigation and return to London as soon as possible."

Phipps chuckled. "Our little group is _always_ plotting."

* * *

* _Phantasie dass_ \- Fancy that!

*The term "slut" has been used since the late 14th century, though its meaning is not as terrible as it is today. There are published books from Medieval Ages that include the word.

 **Author's Notes:** Seems Grey and Ilona's "romance" is short-lived, thanks to Almeison. At this rate, no one's going to flirt with Grey anymore, not while she's around. For now, do enjoy a lovers' quarrel and some shaming of the "other woman". The shaming was out of place, yes, but Almeison be like: "To hell with it!"XD

Thank you to all who reviewed last chapter! I am very grateful for your kind comments and opinions! I'll be sure to work harder and make this story better as it goes.

Reviews are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!


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